


Sleeping with Ghosts

by Selah



Series: Long Time Coming [8]
Category: Celestial Garden (Band), Jrock, Kagrra, Nega (Band)
Genre: Alternative Lifestyles, Drunkenness, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Kitsune, Light BDSM, M/M, Physical Abuse, Service Submission, Sexual Abuse, Supernatural Elements, Verbal Abuse, Verbal Humiliation, Yu Is A Good Bro, background shinto magic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-19
Updated: 2018-06-06
Packaged: 2018-06-09 08:21:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 9
Words: 64,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6898270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selah/pseuds/Selah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes what is past just won't stay in the past. For Isshi, it means opening up old wounds. For San, it means finally closing his own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Long Time Coming #6. Somehow I'm still not finished with it, so updates will probably take awhile. But when they do come, they'll be good and meaty? ^^ Abuse warnings are more for future chapters, this first one is more light and cute, but there's darker shit ahead. Will re-warn at those chapters. Time period starts at November 2009.

He was supposed to be working. Novels, much like songs, didn’t write themselves, after all. But for some reason, Isshi couldn't get himself to focus on the work. His mind kept wandering to flashes of pale skin and long limbs and a sweet smile. Groaning softly, Isshi got up from his desk and went into his kitchen. He needed to stop thinking about San, he really did. Completely ridiculous, this sudden infatuation or whatever it was. Next week would be filled with recording again, perhaps then he would be able to focus on things properly. Because if he still couldn't focus, Izumi would yell at him and then push Naoran at him for a night or two. 

Ah, maybe that was what he needed? Tapping his fingers on the counter as he waited for the water to heat, he rolled the thought over in his mind. It felt ... strange, the thought of scening with Naoki again, considering how long it had been since the last time, but at the same time, he couldn't deny that he missed Naoki's style of submission. Ruki had offered him something he had very much needed at the time, but Isshi knew himself too well to think the two of them could be compatible for anything more than a rare scene. A solid friendship, yes, and a way to momentarily silence the hunger but nothing more, never anything more.

But a scene with Naoki wasn't really going to help. What he needed was a submissive who was properly his own and that was something he hadn't had in far too long. Certainly Reno had never been that, protesting even the smallest of kinky things. No, the last time he had been with one who had truly been his own was.... He pressed a hand to his chest at that familiar ache. It had been more than a year now, and yet still that ache from the yawning wound on his heart. The not knowing why was what hurt the most, but he had made his choice in the matter. There was nothing to be gained from dwelling on the past.

Yet the more he tried to push those two from his mind, the more San's sweet face tried to take their place. And that, he was quite certain, was a road to nothing less than disaster. Oh sure, he was beautiful, sweet and considerate and a dozen other things that lined up to tickle Isshi's fancy, but he was also so very young still. And if the last decade had taught him nothing else, it had shown him again and again that accepting such a young partner could only end in heartache. No, he needed to put San out of his mind, find some other outlet for these feelings.

If only he knew what....

~*~*~

Isshi jumped at the sharp slap of wood against wood, the sudden gust of winter air. Kuina was standing on the veranda outside his office, hopping on one foot while fiddling with the boot on his other,

“Kuina! What is wrong with you, brat, go round and use the front door like a civilized person!” he scolded sharply as he stood from his desk.

“I can't, there's a body blocking the way,” Kuina said with a huff, finally succeeding in yanking off the first boot.

“What? What are you talking about, don't say such ridiculous things. And don't you dare drip slush all over my house, either, young man!” Isshi said, tugging his hoodie more firmly around himself as he moved towards the front of the house. For a long moment, long enough for Kuina to catch up with him, he just stood there, trying to make sense of what his eyes were seeing. It wasn't possible, it wasn't reasonable or rational, and yet....

“See?” Kuina said, panting slightly. “Told you.”

His adopted son squeezed past him, stepping down into the genkan to put his boots on the shoe stand. It really did look like a person, he thought he even recognized the coat. Except that it couldn't possibly be a person because if someone had collapsed in his genkan, surely the dogs would have raised ten kinds of hell instead of the curious but silent sniffing Gucci was doing at that moment. And he couldn't think of a single reason why anyone who could get this close to him with a dead body ever _would_. 

“Kuina....”

“What? I didn't do it, it was already here when I got here!” his son protested, skirting the body-shaped thing in the genkan to step back up into the house. Gucci woofed and poked her nose into the space where the heavy coat's hood opened. The body suddenly came alive with a squeak, flailing and stumbling and quite literally scaring the piss out of Gucci all at the same time. Isshi's eyes widened again when the hood fell to expose vibrant blue hair hanging into a familiar face.

“ _San-kun_??”

San groaned, stumbling forward and nearly tripping over his own two feet. And probably would have fallen flat on his face again if Isshi hadn't stepped forward to catch him.

“Oh wow, San-kun's totally trashed,” Kuina said, an almost admiring note to his voice. The blue-haired young man certainly looked to be three sheets to the wind, maybe four. And no longer enjoying it, the poor thing.

“You can explain later, kitten. Kuipuppy, could you please clean that up for me before someone steps in it?” Isshi asked, carefully lifting San's lanky form into his arms. He could hear Kuina muttering protests as he moved to take San upstairs, but he was reasonably certain the younger guitarist would do as he had asked. Isshi was quite curious to know how San had ended up in his genkan in such a state, and why for that matter, but there would be time for questions later.

“I think 'm gonna be sick,” San slurred. Fortunately, they were nearly to his bathroom and Isshi sat beside the young man while he puked up mostly alcohol into his toilet, gently rubbing his back. San wobbled and passed out again and Isshi sighed softly. These kids today....

Well, first things first. Unzipping the coat, he was only vaguely surprised to see what was either a stage costume or clubbing clothes underneath: a skin-tight, strappy black leather crop top with a white-edged black mesh shrug and an impressively tight and short black leather skirt with black, thigh-high boots with dozens of decorative buckles and a serious platform. Isshi was quietly impressed that San had managed to navigate even just a few blocks, never mind the subway system, in those boots, as drunk as he was. But clothes like that were meant for being seen, not for being comfortable. Tsking softly to himself, he carefully extracted San from the outfit, feeling only a slight twinge of guilt over it. At least he wasn't stripping the boy completely bare, he told himself, as if that made things better. Shaking his head at his own foolishness, he fetched a damp cloth to run over sweaty skin in a quick bath. That done, he then wrapped San in a modest juban and one of his heavier winter kimono.

Somehow, San didn't rouse until he was done, scrambling back to the toilet to vomit again. Poor kitten. San groaned again, then stiffened, as if only then becoming aware something had changed. Isshi watched as San slowly sat up and looked down at himself, a frown creasing his forehead.

“Wha....”

“I didn't think you would be very comfortable in what you were wearing when you got here,” Isshi murmured, pressing a cup of water into the other man's hands. San blearily looked up at him, rubbing his face with one hand. Then recognition sparked in those dark eyes and a hot blush raced into pale cheeks.

“I-Isshi-sama.... Oh god....”

“Drink, San-kun, it'll help,” he murmured, drawing the guitarist's attention back to the cup of water in his hands. The blush darkened as San used the first sip to rinse his mouth, clutching the cup and very obviously not looking at him. Tsking again, he ran a finger along the line of the black leather collar San was still wearing. A decorative accent that had matched San's earlier outfit without even so much as a single D-ring, it was ill suited for anything but show. And yet calling the younger man's attention to it again had the desired effect, San stilling immediately.

“Better,” Isshi said softly, brushing fingers against a flushed cheek before pressing his hand to San's forehead. Fevered, but not overly so. “Can you stand for me, pet?”

San visibly shivered, then set aside the cup to wobble up to his feet. No, that would never do, the poor thing would trip and fall down the stairs like that. Huffing a soft sigh, Isshi immediately regretted it with the way San wilted and collapsed back onto the floor, shuddering.

“Shh, none of that now,” he murmured. “Hold on to me while I carry you, pet.”

A soft noise of affirmation. As soon as he had San in his arms, the younger man was curling into his chest, one arm looping around his neck and shoulders. Offering him soft reassurance, he carried San back downstairs, settling him on the couch in the front lounge. No sign of Kuina, but perhaps that was just as well for the moment.

“Rest here, pet, I'll get you some tea, but if you fall asleep, that's all right, too, okay?”

San nodded then groaned, shifting and curling up on the couch. Isshi bent to brush a quick kiss into blue strands, then went to his kitchen. To his surprise, Kuina appeared to already be making tea, the canister of ginger peach that Isshi used to soothe those with unruly stomachs already sitting on the counter.

“Kuipuppy?”

“Cleaned up from Gucci, ordered takeout from the local Thai place which should be here soon. I got enough for all of us, in case San-kun is feeling up to it,” Kuina explained as he poured hot water into a stoneware pot. “When I heard you coming down the stairs, well....”

“Thank you, puppy,” he said softly, stepping up behind the younger man to gently hug him. “You didn't have to do all that, but thank you. I appreciate it, truly.”

“You were taking care of San-kun,” he said with a half shrug. “Besides, I came here because I was hungry and you were taking so long. What did you do, molest him? Bad daddy, taking advantage of the helpless like that! What sort of example are you setting for me?!”

“Oi, watch it, brat,” Isshi half scolded, stepping back and swatting his adopted son's shoulder. “He was sick, it took awhile to get him settled, that's all.”

Kuina was grinning brightly when the younger man turned around, pushing the tea tray into Isshi's hands. “Of course it did. I don't think I've ever seen him that drunk. And that's probably dinner. Dining room?”

“Front lounge, just this once,” Isshi said with a slight shake of his head. “San-kun's still not feeling too well, though I think the purging helped. But he's settled on the couch and I would like to leave him there, at least until bedtime.”

“Tousan is such a softy,” Kuina teased, bouncing close for a peck on the cheek before slipping away again. Shaking his head, Isshi went back to the lounge, setting the tea tray on the coffee table before checking on San. Deep, even breathing. Smiling to himself, he fetched a blanket for his sleeping kitten; they would let him rest. If he woke when Kuina brought in their dinner, then so be it, but if not ... it might do Kuina some good to have to be quiet for a change.

~*~*~

San very much did not want to be awake right then. Everything hurt - if he didn't know better, he would have sworn even his _hair_ hurt - and he wasn't entirely sure how much of what he remembered from the previous night was even real. He had been all right with the first couple of beers, but then Jin had started buying him harder drinks and things had gotten confused from there. And trying to focus on the memories, such as they were, to try to sort things out more clearly was making his head throb even harder.

He was in a bed not his own, a half familiar scent tickling his nose, and something small and warm tucked behind his knees. Curious, he straightened one leg and the weight lifted, two small paws suddenly on his hip. Oh, a pet, that made sense, one that whuffed softly before climbing over him. Did Jin have a dog? A cold, wet nose pressed to his chin and he yelped again, memories rushing back to the front of his mind. Eyes cracked open, wary of the light. A white and brown papillion, head tilted and studying him. Another groan. Isshi's dog, which made this Isshi's house, which meant he really had passed out in the other man's genkan. Did that mean the rest of what he remembered was also true? Almost too surreal to accept, but all he had on were his underwear and the collar. Perhaps he ought to go find Isshi and just ask? But that would mean moving and he wasn't sure he was up for that just yet.

The small dog whuffed again before jumping down from the bed, trotting out of the room and off into the rest of the house. Probably to tell Isshi that he was awake. Though if that meant he didn't have to get up or move, that was probably a good thing. His stomach gurgled, but he ignored it. They had started drinking way too early, yesterday's lunch lost to Isshi's toilet if he remembered right, and then he had slept through dinner. And perhaps breakfast? He couldn't tell from the searing light what time of day it was, only that it was daylight. Rolling over, he pressed his face into the pillow. Hadn't Isshi ever heard of curtains?

He felt his body stiffen when the bed dipped, forced himself to relax into the hand that stroked along his side. Risking the light, he cracked open one eye. Well of course it was Isshi, he scolded himself, who else would it be? Something twisted in his chest at the way Isshi smiled at him, but he pushed it aside. No matter what Kuina said, there was no way someone like Isshi could ever be seriously interested in some nobody like him. Kuina was crazy, there was no way they could be anything to each other, except senpai and kouhai.

“Good morning, my dear. Well, noon-time,” Isshi said gently, his hand stilling on San's side. “Feeling well enough for lunch?”

His stomach twinged in protest at the mention of food, or maybe it was his headache. He knew he needed to eat, but the thought of moving made him ache even worse. All he really wanted was to curl into a ball, pull the blankets up over his head, and ignore the universe until the pain dissipated, but Isshi was in the way.

“I could carry you if that would make it easier? It's just you and me, no Kuipuppy to tease you.”

“I'm ... not dressed,” San mumbled, feeling his cheeks heat at the confession.

“Yes, kitten, I know,” Isshi said with a small smile. “You're welcome to borrow anything you like from my closets, though fit might be an issue. Puppy's offered to bring you a change of clothes when he comes back tonight.”

San nodded, though he still wasn't feeling that eager to get out of bed. Even though he knew Isshi had already seen him in no more than this - he had _some_ memories of last night, including finding himself in a kimono, and certainly he hadn't put _himself_ to bed - he felt awkward and shy. Ridiculous, considering what he had agreed to do the first night they had met, what he was still willing to do if Isshi wanted it. Though if he didn't stop thinking about that, he was never going to be able to stop blushing. Isshi didn't want that from him, the man had already said as much that first night, it was useless to dwell on what couldn't be.

“Well, I'll let you get dressed without an audience,” Isshi said a moment later, offering him another of those soft smiles that made San's chest twinge. “But if you aren't downstairs in ten minutes, I'll come up here and dress you myself, kitten. You need to eat.”

San felt his cheeks heating at those words, and though a part of him wanted to protest, to just stay in bed, he knew he wouldn't. He didn't know why Isshi hadn't taken off his collar when he had taken off his club clothes, but now it felt ... wrong to do so himself. He was being silly, he knew that, and yet he knew he wouldn't take it off himself, knew he would use the excuse of its presence to continue presenting himself as the proper submissive pet. And he very much was not going to think about why.

~*~*~

A smile curved Isshi's lips when he saw San dressed in the same doe brown kimono he had put on the young man last night. He had left it sitting out in hopes that San would choose it, was glad to see he had. A little surprised to see that he was still wearing the leather collar, but perhaps San had not yet found where Isshi had stashed his other clothes and had not wanted to risk losing it? Plausible enough, he supposed.

“Sleep well?” he asked softly, pouring him a cup of tea. San huffed, shaking his head slightly. Not much of an answer, but Isshi couldn't say he was particularly surprised. He could only imagine the hangover San was experiencing at the moment. Indeed, San's hangover was the main reason he had opted for a simple yakisoba lunch, something that would be relatively easy on the younger man's system.

“So if I asked you how you ended up passed out in my genkan, would I get much of an answer?”

“I ... don't really remember,” San confessed in a soft mumble, barely audible, his cheeks shading a soft pink. “Whatever happened, it was probably Jin-kun's fault. I'm sorry for being such a burden.”

Isshi arched an eyebrow, but San only blushed harder, ducking his head. Well, it wasn't much of an explanation, but at least it was genuine. And it was entirely possible and plausible that San really couldn't remember. Though perhaps he should have a chat with this Jin person about not just dumping a drunk friend on someone else's doorstep without even so much as ringing the doorbell. Then again, doing that might just embarrass San even more. As adorable as he was with pink cheeks, there were limits, even for him.

“Ah, well, if you like, I can take you home after lunch?” he offered, trying not to leak any particular meaning into the words. As much as he knew he shouldn't, the truth was Isshi would rather keep San with him for the rest of the day. But that was selfish, especially when he was reasonably certain the young man had plenty of his own work that needed attention. Work that he couldn't very well do from Isshi's house.

“Eh? Oh, um, well....” San trailed off into another red silence and Isshi couldn't help but wonder why. Was he really being that embarrassing? He hadn't thought so, and yet.... Swallowing down a sigh, and the urge to press for more of an answer, he sat back and waited.

“I don't want to be a bother, I can just use the trains,” the younger man murmured after a few more bites, not meeting Isshi's eyes.

“You're hardly a bother, San-kitten,” he said softly, resisting the urge to do more. Seeing San had brought back that same temptation with even more strength than before and it was taking all of his control to resist. It would be entirely too easy to read too much into San's appearance on his doorstep, something he definitely didn't need to be doing. As it was, Kuina would doubtless do that enough for the both of them.

“Isshi-senpai is too kind,” San mumbled, bowing again. Which wasn't exactly an answer, but it would do for the moment. Especially when he could see the way San was lingering over his lunch, clearly stalling for time for whatever reason.

“How's your head?” he asked softly, feeling almost inspired for a moment. Now to see if San would pick up the hint and run with it or not. “As badly drunk as you were last night, the hangover must be dreadful.”

“Dreadful, yes,” the younger man agreed, blushing again and ducking his head. “I ... I think when I get home, I'll just crawl into bed for awhile longer.”

“If it's that bad, perhaps the trains would not be the best idea,” Isshi said, sipping his tea. “You're welcome to borrow a bed here for a few hours.”

“I wouldn't want to be an imposition,” San repeated, shaking his head and then groaning softly when the motion caught up with him. 

“No burden, San-kun. I have guest rooms enough and inasmuch as I'm taking a home work day.... Stay, let yourself heal up a bit more. Kuina-kun will be back in another five or six hours, plenty of time to rest before he gets here.”

San glanced up at him, understanding starting to shine in dark eyes. And then they were lowering again.

“Thank you, Isshi-senpai,” he murmured, bowing respectfully. That easily, the sense of stalling faded from the room, though San still ate slowly. Even when he was done, he lingered, refilling Isshi's tea cup before starting to gather the dishes. Of course Isshi couldn't just allow that so easily, gently catching his arm when he came close again.

“Leave the dishes to me, San-kun. Go rest.”

“Isshi-senpai, I ... I couldn't. You've been so generous already, taking me in like this, I ... I have to ... to do _something_ to thank you....”

“You don't need to do anything, San-kun, you're my guest. Go on, you should rest while you can. If it troubles you that much, you can help with dinner later, all right?”

San nodded, though Isshi wondered at how easily the other let himself be shooed away. He might have to concede to more than just letting San help with dinner. Or else put up more of a fight to cook himself. Not that he wouldn't do exactly that if it proved necessary. Whatever tricks he might have used last night to keep the drunken San compliant, the blue-haired youth was his guest, not his pet. And it was going to stay that way.

~*~*~

“So you want to tell me what really happened last night?”

“Shut up, Kuina-kun,” San muttered, snatching the bag from the younger man's hands and heading back upstairs. So of course Kuina followed him up to the room San had been borrowing, closing and leaning against the door.

“Come on, San-kun, something happened. Not like you to get shitfaced like that.”

“Not talking about it, Kui,” San muttered. At least his friend had grabbed him sensible clothes. Maybe if he just ignored him, he would take the hint and go away? Not that such tactics had ever worked for him in the past, of course, but still. There was a first time for everything.

“Man, _still_ no marks? Mou, are you even _trying_ to seduce him, San-kun?”

“Shut up!" he snapped, shooting a brief glare at the blue-haired teen before quickly pulling on the sweater Kuina had brought for him. He already missed the feel of silk, but he couldn't just wear Isshi's kimono all the time. It really was a lovely if very simple piece and he was quite careful when folding it up again.

“You aren't, are you? Ugh, you two are so ... so ... ugh. As bad as each other.”

“Kuina-kun....”

“I mean, I knew Reno broke him, fucked with his head, but this....”

“Kui, stop pushing,” San muttered, pulling on his jeans. “He already said he's not interested in casual sex, what more do you want? Let it go.”

“Well if _course_ he'd say that,” Kuina muttered in response, running a hand through his hair. “He thinks that's what happened with Reno and, well, you see how well that went.”

“Kui, I mean it, just stop.”

“Reno was a complete fucking disaster, he was cheating on Tousan within a couple of weeks because he's a complete and total whore. I should've known from the start, should've been able to do something. But the lying little cunt insisted it was different this time, that _he_ was different this time, swore up and down that he was really in love.”

San told himself to stop listening to Kuina's little tirade, instead setting himself the task of taking apart the guest bed so the sheets could be washed. He had only slept in it for a couple of hours, so maybe it wasn't really necessary, but he doubted he would be doing that again, well, ever, and the next guest deserved properly and completely clean sheets. Of course telling himself that he wasn't going to listen and actually not listening were two very different things.

“And I was stupid enough to believe the lying whore when he said he'd change. I let him down. I should have known better and I let him down.”

“Kuina-kun,” San sighed, gathering up the sheets and borrowed juban before turning to look at his friend. “You aren't perfect. No one is. But what's your point?”

“Tousan needs more than just his work. You've been here twice now, you've seen the way the house looks. Like the only rooms he uses are the kitchen, the office, and his bedroom. In a house this big? This far away from the heart of the city? Being on his own all the time? That can't end well and you know I'm right.”

“What does any of that have to do with me?” he huffed, eyes narrowing when Kuina abruptly pushed off the door to stalk up to him. He felt himself clutching the laundry bundle more tightly, though he wasn't sure why. He had nothing to fear from Kuina, it wasn't like the younger man would ever actually hurt him. And yet there was something in his friend's eyes, the set of his jaw, that made him wary. Something not entirely right.

“On the ridiculously long list of Reno's failings is an at best flawed grasp of any and all things even just potentially kinky. Tousan's previous relationship ended abruptly six months before he and I even met. He won't talk about it, I stopped asking because he would get this look that was just.... But he's said enough and I've pieced together enough other things to know he's a Dom and that his last proper submissive lived with him in this house. And then said submissive just disappeared out of his life. Like there one day, just up and gone the next sort of disappearing. Over a year ago.”

San couldn't help the nagging feeling that he knew where Kuina was going with this and he wanted nothing more to do with it. He wouldn't mind becoming friends with his senpai, of course not, but what Kuina was pushing was something far more than that. It wasn't right, Kuina was meddling.

“He likes to pretend everything is fine,” Kuina said in the face of his continued silence. “But I know better. And it's not just that he's lonely.”

“Kuina-kun ... you're meddling. You can't just ... just force something to happen because you feel guilty about what happened with Reno-san.”

“But....” Kuina trailed off into silence for a moment, his face falling. “But he's Tousan. I can't just stand by and watch him be miserable. Please, San-kun? Just because he doesn't want to admit it, that doesn't mean that he doesn't need you.”

“Kui....” It really wasn't fair, the way the younger man could put on the most wretched hangdog sort of expression at the drop of a hat. Manipulative little shit. “You know, we might not even be a good match. As Dominant and submissive, I mean. Maybe I'm all wrong for him.”

“And maybe I'm a monkey's uncle,” Kuina muttered, frowning at him now. “At least try? For me?”

“I thought this was supposed to be about Isshi-senpai, brat,” he mumbled, elbowing around Kuina to head for the door. It was too late in the day to be doing laundry under normal circumstances, but Kuina was right about one thing: most of the house was sitting empty and unused. It wouldn't be that hard for San to find a way to hang things up to dry overnight.

“Please, San-kun?” Kuina repeated, catching his elbow before he could reach the door and make good his escape. “Just one more try. If he rebuffs you again then I'll shut up about it, I promise.”

San didn't believe _that_ for one second, but he could also tell that the younger guitarist wasn't going to let go of this particular bone until he had made the promise. Stifling a sigh, he nodded.

“Once more, then we let it go.”

~*~*~

Isshi had been having an unexpectedly productive afternoon. The writing had been flowing with surprising ease for the first time in what felt like weeks, if not months, and not even Kuina's return to the house had really been able to disturb him, though he was also pretty sure that his adopted son hadn't actually tried. Not only had he managed to finish another outline, but the actual writing had yielded draft copy for another two and a half chapters. And he probably would have kept going, except something was poking at him, in a metaphorical sense. Sounds that were trying to get his attention, albeit subtly. Removing his glasses, he rubbed the bridge of his nose a moment, trying to make sense of what his ears were trying to tell his brain.

Someone was in his kitchen. Someone was in his kitchen, moving about his cupboards. Those were the sounds that had been poking at him for the last half hour or more. Glasses set aside, Isshi got up from his desk to investigate. And was more than a little surprised to find Kuina sitting at the table, peeling sweet potatoes, while San was working on ... something that smelled deliciously like dinner.

“San-kun? Kuipuppy?”

“Ah, I should have dinner ready in another ... forty minutes? I'm sorry, senpai, I didn't mean to disturb your writing, I know I've already been disturbance enough today for two days. Or more.”

“San-kun,” Isshi said, closing the distance between them to lightly catch his wrists. “You don't have to do this, any of this. You're my guest.”

San's eyes flicked down to his wrists, then back up to him. “It's not about having to or debts owed, Isshi-senpai,” the young guitarist murmured with a tiny shake of his head. “Though I owe you a great deal for what you've done for me. But this ... this is something I _want_ to do. Kuina-kun even volunteered to help. I'll be careful, I promise. And I'll let you know as soon as dinner is ready so you can keep working.”

A part of him wanted to argue, to insist that this wasn't right, but it was difficult to do so with such an argument being used against him. Stifling a sigh, he let go of the younger man, firmly shoving aside the brief urge to do anything more inappropriate than he already had.

“All right, I suppose I can let it go this time,” he said instead, smiling before going to his fridge for a bottle of water. He didn't really need it, but he could perhaps pretend it was the need for a drink that had really pulled him into the kitchen? Sounded good in his head, anyway, and he returned to his office without another comment.

~*~*~

In San's original plan, he had intended to leave as soon as he had finished with washing the dishes from dinner. Of course his original plan hadn't included a provision for him forgetting about the load of laundry he had started until about halfway through after dinner cleanup. Or Isshi plucking the dish scrubby from his hands.

It also hadn't accounted for Kuina. Never mind that, even after as long as he had known the kid, he still couldn't reliably predict just what he would do. Just like he had no idea what the blue-haired demon spawn had done to create the scene into which San found himself blundering. San stopped dead in his tracks at the kitchen threshold, trying to process what he was seeing. Somehow, Kuina had arranged it so Isshi had the blue-haired teen pressed against the wall, the two doing more than casual kissing. A whole lot more.

 _At least the little brat waited to finish the dishes first._ The irreverent, irrelevant thought flittered through his awareness, closely followed by the realization that Kuina had his hand in Isshi's pants. It couldn't have been much more than an hour ago that Kuina had been calling Isshi “tousan” and now this?”

“Hnn, Shichi....”

The moan could have been a slap in the face or a bucket of ice water, the way it affected Isshi. His senpai stepped back one, two steps, frowning at Kuina almost as if he didn't recognize him. For his part, Kuina stayed as he was, half sprawled against the wall, watching Isshi with heavy-lidded eyes and licking his lips nice and slow.

“Problem, Issama? Should let me help you with that,” the wicked minx purred, curling a hand over the top of Isshi's jeans and trying, without much success, to tug him closer again. “Or is it that you'd rather have San-kun doing that? On his knees before you, eagerly awaiting your commands?”

“Ku-kuina ... that isn't ... this isn't....”

“I make him pretty for you and you refuse. He comes in here stumbling drunk and you refuse. Should I have him present you with a contract next? Or would you still refuse to accept what's being freely offered to you? You've gotten so bad about that, Issama,” Kuina purred, peeling himself off the wall to instead mold himself to Isshi. “Even when we say yes, you still insist on saying no. So unfair, don't you agree, San-kun?”

San wasn't entirely sure what it was he was seeing in the dark eyes of his senpai. And then something cold slid in place over them, a shield, a closed door.

“You set me up and then accuse _me_ of being unfair? You have quite the nerve, _pup_ ,” Isshi growled and San felt himself shiver at the raw anger in the other man's tone. Everything was falling apart, why had Kuina done this? How could he have possibly thought that this would be a good idea? What the hell was _wrong_ with the boy, pulling a stunt like this? And yet it was so perfectly Kuina - reckless, heedless, daring and undisciplined....

“I-Issama,” he heard himself stammering, “he ... he's just trying to help.”

“Trying to help? This is supposed to be helping? And just how does that work, exactly?”

That cold look had been frightening enough when it had been aimed at Kuina, but now that it was aimed at him.... San wasn't sure how he had crossed the space between them, didn't care. He was more concerned by the wavering, conflicting desires within him, the want to press close just as Kuina was doing and the increasing _need_ to kneel before him, to prostrate himself like a properly apologetic pet. Compromising with himself, he yanked Kuina down to his knees on the floor along side him.

“I'm sorry, Issama,” he murmured in what he hoped was a tone that would properly convey his contrition, even though he wasn't directly responsible for any of what had just happened. “Kuina-kun is selfish, ill-mannered, and undisciplined. He was only trying to help you, Issama.”

“Kuina-kun is right here and can hear you, you know,” his friend hissed sharply, tugging against San's hold on his wrist, but San ignored him, risking a glance up through his lashes at Isshi's face. Such a mix of emotion and he didn't know Isshi anywhere near well enough to be able to sort them out with confidence. He could see the man's fingers twitching and then everything shut down, like a mask sliding back into place. Without another word, Isshi turned and walked out of the room.

“Idiot,” San muttered, swatting Kuina before getting up to his feet again. “What the hell were you thinking??'

“Sorry,” the younger man mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck as he resettled himself on the floor, tugging his knees up to his chest and resting his chin on them. “It was all me, I shouldn't've called him that, it was stupid.”

“What, the Shichi thing?”

“Mm. It's what his last proper pet used to call him and I knew it would snap him back from what we were doing, but I didn't think it would hit him that hard,” Kuina said with a sigh. “I just meant to get his attention pulled back enough that he'd notice you were back. I thought maybe ... maybe if I could get him all worked up and, you know, open to the idea, it'd, I dunno, help somehow.”

San sighed then, ruffling Kuina's hair in gentle affection. The kid meant well, he just ... didn't always think things through as well as he should. And San couldn't say his plan was necessarily such a bad one, just ... a little flawed in the execution. Checking the coffee pot to see if it was clean enough, he cheated and used it to heat water for tea, brewing up three mugs of chai.

Leaving Kuina with one mug and a hug, he then set the other two on a tray and started a cautious exploration of the house for their host. He knew the man wasn't in his office, since he had walked out of the kitchen in the opposite direction, but that left the whole rest of the quite sizable house and San with no real clue where to start. Trying the dining room first, he was a little surprised to find that, while the room was empty, the shouji there stood open to the yard. Setting the tray on the low table in the center of the room, he went to the parted shouji. Isshi was standing on the veranda, silently smoking and obviously tense. Not good. Turning back into the room, San went to the concealed storage closet tucked under the stairs, smiling when he found a stash of blankets. Grabbing a particularly heavy one, he shook it out, then went back to the shouji. Isshi was still in the same place, with a fresh cigarette. That couldn't be a good sign. Wrapping the blanket around himself, he braced for the winter chill, then stepped out onto the veranda, silently padding over to Isshi's side. 

“You'll catch a cold, standing out here like this,” he said quietly. Isshi didn't even glance at him, staring hard at the backyard, at something only he could see. Stifling a sigh of frustration, San moved closer until he could wrap the blanket around them both. Only then did Isshi seem to notice him at all, flinching a moment before turning just enough to blink at him for a few seconds. Then recognition light in dark eyes and the man relaxed, a faint smile appearing.

“You startled me, San-kun.”

“You were a bit lost in thought. I have chai made, you should come drink it before it goes cold. And before you catch one yourself, for that matter.”

“Yes, Mother,” the older man teased softly. Two words that eased a painful knot in San's chest. That soft teasing had to be a positive sign, of that much he was certain. And better still when Isshi turned and brushed a kiss to his cheek before slipping free from the blanket to go back inside. Shivering, and not just from the cold, San hurried to follow him, though he settled on the adjacent side of the table rather than sitting right next to the other man. He wasn't feeling quite that brave just yet.

“San-kun, I ... am sorry if I gave you the wrong impression before,” Isshi murmured, though he wasn't actually looking at San when he spoke. Setting down his mug, San dared to reach out to rest his hand on top of Isshi's own. 

“Isshi-senpai, you don't have to apologize for Kuina-kun's clumsy attempts at matchmaking,” he said softly, keeping his gaze on their hands. He wasn't sure he wanted to see what Isshi thought of what he was about to say. “He may not know what he's doing, but he isn't so wrong in his thinking, either. I won't pretend that it feels the same, but I know what it is to have to shut away a part of yourself because you can't do anything else with it. Because you don't have a partner or because the one you _do_ have gets the most horrified expression when you tell him - or her - about your kinks. It's easy at first, I know, and you tell yourself that you don't really need it. And then the weeks turn into months and it starts to ache, to gnaw at you. And the longer it goes, the more it eats at you, until....”

San bit his lip against the rest of that sentence. He hadn't planned on saying so much, but somehow once he had started, he hadn't been able to stop. The hand under his turned over, long fingers curling around his own hand. Kuina didn't know because it was none of his business, but San's own relationship status was nebulous at best at the moment. Maybe that was why he kept letting Kuina push him at Isshi, because his own needs weren't being met. Because whatever it was he had with Jin, it wasn't what San needed. Ridiculous as it was, he had always felt safe with Isshi, even before he had properly met the man. Of course it wasn't as simple as just him trusting Isshi. Isshi had to trust him, too, and that would take time. No matter what Kuina thought. Trust wasn't something that could just be commanded into existence and it was pointless of him to let Kuina keep pushing.

“I've been entirely too selfish,” Isshi murmured, gently squeezing his hand. “Of course you would have had more reason than just because Kuipuppy asked. He's sweet and cute, but he's not _that_ persuasive.”

San blushed, only able to glance up at Isshi through his lashes. His senpai was smiling softly at him, still holding his hand, and he felt his cheeks heating even more in response. Which was silly, but he couldn't seem to help it.

“I'm not asking to take anyone's place, senpai. I know I could never do that,” he said softly, lowering his gaze once more. “But we could have a ... a mutually beneficial arrangement, a contract. Two friends helping each other.”

Isshi shook his head and San felt his breath catch in his throat again. He'd said the wrong thing, ruined what hadn't even been allowed to start yet. Kuina was going to be so disappointed....

“I'm not sure I can do that. I get attached to my submissive, some would say too attached. But I don't know how I could accept a submissive's trust and _not_ become attached.”

“... would that be such a bad thing?” he ventured softly. What was he even saying? But it seemed he couldn't control his mouth at all tonight. Still, the sad smile that appeared on Isshi's face was enough to break his heart.

“I'm a broken old man, San-kun. You deserve better.”

He had been wrong, those words ached even worse, twisted something in his chest. Scooting a little closer, he squeezed Isshi's hand and shook his head.

“I don't see an old man,” he murmured, reaching up with his free hand to cup Isshi's cheek. “I see someone who's been hurt terribly, yes, but not broken and definitely not old.”

As long as he was already acting so far out of character, no reason not to go all in, right? Leaning closer and closing his eyes, he pressed a kiss to Isshi's lips. For an agonizing instant there was nothing, Isshi simply sat there rigid, probably in shock. And then hands were cupping his cheeks as Isshi finally responded, taking command of the kiss and demanding more than just the chaste brush of lips with which he had started. And San gave it willingly, silently inviting Isshi to take all he wanted, as much as he desired.

And yet all too soon it was ending, Isshi pulling back with a shake of his head.

“San-kun, this is a bad idea,” the older man murmured, trying to push him away. But he was feeling stubborn tonight, one hand curling into the hair at the back of Isshi's neck even as he refused to be pushed away so easily.

“Don't I get a say in this at all, Issama?” he asked softly, daring to lean in and rest his head on the elder's shoulder.

“Of course,” Isshi replied, fingers slipping perhaps too easily into blue strands. “Of course, San-kun, always. But that doesn't change that this is still a very bad idea.”

“Unless you're hiding some horrible secret, like secretly being some sort of psychotic ax murderer on the weekends, then ... it's a risk I'm willing to take.”

San felt heat flooding his cheeks as those words reached his ears. What on earth was wrong with him tonight? Spewing such nonsense, saying things completely out of character, being stubborn where he had said just that afternoon that he would stop. Almost a shame he couldn't claim to still be drunk, at least then he would have had some excuse. Of course drunk he doubted he could have gotten himself to do or say any of these things.

“And when you change your mind about me?” Isshi asked after a long pause.

“Not going to happen,” San said with a tiny shake of his head against the man's shoulder.

“... how can you say such a thing so easily?” Isshi asked, pushing San up and away from him, forcing him to meet his eyes. The deep ache San saw in the older man's gaze tore at his chest once more and he had to swallow against an up-welling of sympathetic pain.

“Kuina-kun's an idiot, but he's an idiot who loves you very much,” San said at last, scooting the last bit closer so their knees were touching. Another breath and he risked it, leaning forward so he could rest his forehead against Isshi's, his eyes falling closed once more. “And that speaks volumes.”

“You're both crazy,” Isshi muttered, but it was different this time. San could feel it, like the fight was draining out of the older man. He slid his hands to tense shoulders and began gently kneading them, biting back a smile when he felt them relaxing. He waited a beat to make sure Isshi wasn't going to argue further, then slowly sat back, hands drifting down the older man's chest briefly before landing back in his own lap. Perhaps things had not been ruined?

“Shall I go draw a hot bath for you then, Issama?” he asked quietly, allowing himself only the smallest of smiles at the smile that Isshi himself couldn't completely suppress.

“It's a bit early for that sort of thing, San-kitten,” Isshi said, the smile slowly growing. “Besides, I have a feeling we have an audience. You might as well come in here, Kuipuppy. We're not going to do anything inappropriate, you dirty voyeur.”

“Mou, I was even being quiet!” Kuina protested even as he slid open the shouji.

“Yes, too quiet,” Isshi said, though he was smiling. Kuina huffed, pouting as he joined them at the table. “It's not like you to be so reserved in my house. You get quiet and I get suspicious, pup.”

“I was trying to give you two some space, that's all!”

“By loitering in the hallway?” Isshi asked, the small smile still lingering on his lips. Kuina didn't have a ready answer for that one, toying with one of his lip rings.

“Well, I, um ... ok, fine, maybe I was eavesdropping. I get horny, too, sometimes, you know!”

“Yes, I noticed,” Isshi drawled in such a perfect deadpan Kuina even blushed.

“Ok, so that wasn't one of my better plans,” Kuina mumbled, tongue poking at a lip ring. “But it also sort of worked, didn't it?”

“Beside the point, young man. You're still in trouble.”

“Eh?? What for?? Since when is trying to seduce you against the house rules?” Kuina protested, pouting even harder, and San had to bite his lip to keep from giggling at the expression on his younger friend's face.

“False pretenses, puppy. Go take Pinky and Gucci out for a proper walk. And no, you may not sleep in my bed tonight, pup.”

“This is so not fair,” Kuina huffed, though he was getting to his feet. An interesting choice of punishment, though knowing how much Kuina liked to cuddle, it would probably be pretty effective. Maybe.

“I can still drive you home,” Isshi said when the two of them were alone again. San nodded, toying with his empty mug as he weighed his options. On the one hand, it would be easier to deal with his list of errands tomorrow starting from his own apartment. On the other hand, a part of him didn't want to leave. Like it was important for him to stay the night again, even if all they did was sleep.

“If ... if it's all the same to you, I ... I'd like to stay,” he murmured, glancing up at Isshi through his lashes.

“In my bed?” Isshi asked, his earlier smile gone again. San bit his lip a moment before nodding. He felt the silence between them stretch into a minor eternity of a few seconds and then Isshi was once more closing the space between them to press a soft, almost chaste kiss to his lips. 

“As long as you don't expect any more than sleep from me tonight,” Isshi murmured at least, “then I would like that. Very much.”

“I don't think I could anyway,” he confessed, familiar heat rising in his cheeks yet again. “Not with Kuina-kun in the house.”

“He does have a bit of a ... penchant for voyeurism,” Isshi agreed, sitting back with another small smile. That was a rather significant understatement to San's mind. Added to the fact that San tended to be a private person and his desire to keep Kuina firmly on the level of just friend and not friend with benefits or whatever Kuina would call it ... well, it would just be all around better for San's own peace of mind to stick to only sleeping. Though he was determined now to make sure that the next time he came to this house, it would be a different story. Hopefully.

~*~*~

The only real problem with staying was that San wasn't entirely sure what to do with himself, what to suggest he and Isshi do with the evening. Isshi was probably right about it being too early in the evening for a bath, if only just, and their chai wasn't going to be able to occupy them any longer.

“I should check on the laundry,” he murmured, but before he could get up to do so, Isshi caught his wrist.

“It's bedding, San-kitten, it won't be dry this quickly. But there's a television in the front lounge and unless you want to watch whatever horror movie Kuina-puppy has in mind, you might want to pick something else out of my library,” Isshi said, smiling warmly. Nodding, San waited for Isshi to release him, surprised when the elder immediately picked up their empty mugs.

“I'll deal with these, kitten, you go ahead,” Isshi said as he moved towards the kitchen. San bit back the protest lurking at the tip of his tongue, instead nodding again. This was, after all, Isshi's house, and he was still his senpai's guest, not his submissive. Unless and until they had that contract, he couldn't very well argue every time Isshi did something that his own sensibilities were all but screaming at him that he, as the submissive, ought to be doing instead. 

He wasn't quite sure what to make of Isshi's decidedly eclectic movie collection. Everything from period dramas to horror to foreign imports, he'd had to read the cases for several just to get an idea of what they were about and yet he was still undecided. But he had a pretty good idea what sort Kuina would pick and he didn't really want nightmares his second night - no, wait, third night, though he wasn't entirely sure last night counted, considering he couldn't really remember anything about it - in Isshi's bed.

Happy barks announced the return of his mischievous friend, one dog heading straight for the kitchen while the other came running up to him, jumping into his lap.

“Gucci, you're not helping,” he scolded softly, though he still petted the small dog. Out of time, he really needed to pick something. Closing his eyes, he shuffled the cases of the ones he had already pulled out as likely candidates, then picked at random. A campy kung-fu comedy movie he had seen a couple of times already, he had been surprised to find it in Isshi's collection. Maybe Kuina wasn't so wrong about them and their compatibility? Well, all right, his gut had already told him that much, but every piece of supporting evidence helped him feel better. Slipping the DVD into the player, he waited for the main menu to spin up before putting away the other cases, then scooped up Gucci so he could move to the couch. So naturally, as soon as he set her back down on his lap, she jumped off the couch and trotted off. And he had thought cats were fickle....

“Mou, I was going to pick something,” Kuina whined, pouting at him even as he sat a bowl of popcorn on the coffee table.

“Yes, we know,” Isshi said, coming into the room behind him. “That's why I suggested San pick something that wouldn't give him nightmares.”

“How do you know I would have picked something like that?” Kuina countered, still pouting.

“Because I know how your mind works, Kuipuppy,” Isshi said, chuckling as he sat down next to San. “You can watch whatever you want after this one, okay?”

“Okay~” Kuina chirped, sitting down on Isshi's other side and almost immediately snuggling up to him not unlike a lost puppy. No wonder Isshi called him that. By the end of the movie, Kuina was half sprawled across Isshi's lap and San himself had become host to two sleeping cats.

“Well,” Isshi murmured, apparently noticing the cats for the first time, “you must be someone special indeed. I've never seen Tsuya-hime take to anyone so quickly.”

“Tsuya-hime?”

“This one,” Isshi explained, running a hand along the flank of the pure white cat. “She was Momo's precious baby, she wouldn't sleep on anyone else for months afterwards. Not like her brother Pucchi. That one loves anyone who will give him food.”

San sensed that he was stumbling into potentially hazardous territory. The two cats sleeping on him couldn't be more than two or three years old, meaning Tsuya had to have been Isshi's previous submissive's cat originally. Tsuya looked up when Isshi stopped petting her, yawning widely before getting up, stretching, and then jumping down from San's lap. Maybe it would be better, as fragile as things were between them just yet, to close the door on that conversation for the night.

“Want me to draw that bath for you now?” he murmured, though he wasn't quite soft enough to keep Kuina from hearing him, the little brat immediately perking up. “Don't even think it, Kuina-kun.”

“Mou ... wait, you mean I'm going to have to watch my movie all by myself on _top_ of having to sleep alone? Tousan's so _mean_!”

San stifled a giggle as he gently relocated Pucchi to Isshi's couch while the older man explained to Kuina that he could watch anything he wanted. He could already tell where that conversation was headed and he was just as happy to not be a party to it. From Isshi's personal bath, he could only barely hear the murmur of voices at all, and that was just fine with him. He had other things on his mind as he filled the bath with hot water, adding lavender scented salts. A sly grin as he opted not to fill it as much as he had last time.

“I apologize in advance if we end up with a bed invader, San-kun,” Isshi said as he stepped into the bathroom. “Puppy is being stubborn again.”

“He often is,” San agreed with slight nod. He had it all planned out in his head and yet when Isshi approached, he could feel his nerves getting the best of him. 

“That isn't much water, San-kun.”

Reflexively, San glanced back down at the tub. Ok, it was perhaps a bit shallow for just one, but....

“I didn't want to risk it overflowing,” he mumbled, feeling himself blushing again. “I ... I could add more if ... I mean, I just thought maybe, um, we could, um share the bath?”

He kept his eyes firmly downcast, silently kicking himself and biting his bottom lip. That was completely blundered, not at all the way for a submissive to ask his Master for permission to join him in his bath. And of course now he was stuck with it. It really had been too long since he had submitted to anyone but Jin, he was obviously out of practice. His breath hitched in his chest when fingers caught his chin, forced him to meet Isshi's steady gaze.

“I don't want you to think that you ever have to hide your thoughts, your desires from me, kitten, regardless of anything else,” Isshi said softly, his thumb lightly brushing along his jaw. “I can't read your thoughts, you're going to have to tell me what you want, okay?”

“O-okay,” he stammered, his cheeks heating even more. That was it? Almost felt too easy.

“I'll wash your back if you'll wash mine?” Isshi ventured, a charming smile once more lighting his eyes.

“Of course, Issama,” San replied with a smile of his own. His fingers itched to help Isshi undress, to be the good and proper submissive pet, but he wasn't entirely sure that would be appropriate. So instead he kept to his own disrobing, and nearly jumped out of his skin when, still folding his pants, he felt fingers on the back of his shoulder, tracing the ink of a tattoo.

“Ah, sorry, I didn't mean to startle you, dear. I was wondering what that was.”

“It's fine,” he murmured, glancing over his shoulder with a smile. Less of a surprise then when he felt those fingers sliding down to his other tattoo on his back, tracing over it lightly. And then the moment was lost, Isshi handing him a damp wash cloth. Right, the bath was going to get cold if they didn't hurry up, and he wasn't sure he was ready for the questions that would come if Isshi did a complete survey of his bared body. Mentally shaking off any thoughts of expectations - or fears of discovery of things best left untouched for now - San hurriedly washed himself before turning to wash Isshi's back with the same efficiency.

“In a hurry, kitten?” Isshi teased.

“To get into a nice hot bath instead of standing naked in the cold? Yes, just a bit.”

Isshi's laughter sent warm tingles skittering about his chest that he was very firmly not thinking about at all. Isshi was equally quick with his back, turning the wand on San before rinsing off himself. San shifted from one foot to the other, waiting for Isshi to settle in the bath before finally joining him. The water really was almost too hot, but it felt so good. And then Isshi's arms were around him, gently coaxing him to lean back against him, and it felt even better. He had to shift a bit, further settling himself in the cradle of the other man's body until he could rest his head on Isshi's shoulder. Half curled against Isshi's chest, he closed his eyes and just let himself breathe for a change. To breathe and not think about anything. Not how comfortable this was or how easily they had settled into it or anything. Just the slow flow of air in and out, in and out. Tomorrow. He would let himself think about such things again tomorrow. For tonight he just wanted this perfect peaceful moment.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has graphic abuse and a violent rape that's mostly between scenes (we see the start and then skip to several hours later). I make no claim that this behavior in this fic is reflective of the actual members of NEGA, even though this series is rated at only semi-AU. RP will do RP things, though since I wasn't directly involved in scenes that didn't include Isshi, I've had to embellish a bit. 
> 
> The character of Boye is indeed based on the singer of the same name from My Heaven's Luck Sisters. I don't recall the Real ever playing with pronouns but in the RP on which this whole series is based, muse!Boye indentified as female, hence the use of female pronouns for her.
> 
> This chapter was previously released (with San-mun's approval) on LJ some years ago. I have made several minjor edits since then (minjor = less than major but more than minor - overall plot is the same, just some tweaked details and scenes).

Waking up was easier this time, though San was surprised to feel an arm curled around him. This was a first and he found he rather like it, snuggling closer to the other man. Too bad he couldn't just stay there all day, but yesterday had already been a complete loss. He was, to be honest, a bit surprised that no one had come looking for him or even just tried calling him. He couldn't remember how he and Jin had gotten separated or when or if the man even knew what had happened to him. And yet not so much as a text message demanding to know where he was. All very odd, really.

“Good morning, kitten,” Isshi murmured, interrupting his internal musing by brushing a kiss to his forehead. “You're welcome to the first shower, if you like, though you may want to hurry before Kuipuppy gets up and helps himself to all the hot water.”

San huffed and pressed himself closer, feeling quite uninterested in moving just yet. Completely irresponsible of him but he couldn't make himself care just then. Just a little longer, surely he could stay here just a little longer. Besides, why would he want to move away when those fingers were massaging his scalp? Between that and the soft humming, it would be entirely too easy to fall back to sleep. At least here he knew he was completely safe, as strange as that was. As long as he was with Isshi, he knew nothing could hurt him and that was a dangerously seductive thought.

~*~*~

Isshi couldn't help but smile at the feeling of San drifting back to sleep in his arms. He was still convinced this was a mistake, letting him in like this, but once again it seemed his intellect didn't get a vote in the matter. Sighing, he carded fingers through short blue strands. Kuina was setting him up, pushing him into something he wasn't sure was wise. And doing a disturbingly good job of it, enticing him with someone who not only had a beautiful body, but also a beautiful mind. A submissive who knew what it meant to serve and took pleasure in that service.

“And what will I do when you break my heart, kitten, hmm?” he whispered to himself with a soft sigh. “I don't know that I can bear that pain again so soon.”

“He might not, you know,” Kuina said, startling him badly. How had he not noticed his adopted son sneaking into his room, into his very bed? He must be getting quite old indeed if it had become so easy to sneak up on him.

“Kuina, what did I tell you last night?”

“That was last night,” the youth said with a dismissive wave. “Morning now, whole new day. And Tousan should trust me a little more. San-kun will be good for you, just like I know you'll be good for him. Not good to be so alone, either of you.”

“Puppy....”

“I know you can be what he needs,” Kuina insisted, frowning now. “Just like I know he can be what _you_ need. Trust me, I know what I'm doing.”

Isshi sighed again, not really wanting to argue the point any longer, particularly not with Kuina. He had already agreed to try, to take San on as his contracted submissive, which he could only see ending in one of two ways. And in his experience, as cynical as it would no doubt sound to another, one ending was far and away more likely than the other.

“Everyone leaves in the end,” he murmured, his focus shifting back to the young man asleep in his arms. He should be waking him, before it got any later. Just because it was Sunday, that didn't mean San could lay in his bed all day, no matter how much they were both likely to enjoy exactly that. Surely there were people wondering where San was, why he hadn't put in an appearance yesterday. Then again, Isshi barely knew anything about this man or his band and schedule. Something he was going to have to remedy sooner rather than later.

“Tousan really is impossible sometimes,” Kuina muttered, snuggling into his back.

“Don't you have things to do?” he asked quietly, ever the concerned father figure. And perhaps also a bit of wanting some more time alone with his new kitten.

“Not 'til this afternoon,” Kuina mumbled into his back. So much for the subtle approach. Though as long as he and San were only sleeping.... But he wanted his privacy with San, even if he couldn't do more than just hold him. It was important, for them both.

“Puppy, you pushed for this, maybe you should actually let me have time alone with him?”

“Mou, but he's just sleeping right now! Can't I get Tousan cuddles too?” Kuina whined. Even without seeing it directly, Isshi could too easily picture the pout his adopted son had to be giving him. Careful not to jostle San too much, Isshi shifted and rolled onto his back, unsurprised by the expected pout.

“Ten minutes, you greedy monster,” he scolded, though it was hard to stay angry with the happy wiggling puppy aura Kuina exuded at times like this. Sighing softly, he curled his other arm around Kuina and kissed the top of his head. “Ten minutes and then you go, got it?”

“Hai, Tousan~!” the young man chirped. Such a sweet puppy, he really was a good kid at heart. And maybe he really could be right about him and San. Only one way to find out.

~*~*~

San immediately noticed the arms around him as he returned to consciousness once more, the layered scents of Isshi's cologne, soap, and skin. Or maybe it was laundry detergent, soap, and skin? Clean and soothing and dammit, he hadn't actually meant to fall back to sleep! Yet it was impossible to panic properly or even get properly angry with himself when he was being held like this. So much easier to instead relax back into Isshi's arms, and he didn't want to think anymore about why that was. Didn't want to think about anything, not about work or his responsibilities or anything.

“Awake again?” Isshi murmured, the words a soothing rumble under his ear.

“Mm. I should get up,” he replied softly, wondering at his own lack of surprise when Isshi's arms tightened around him. This was what Kuina wanted, but was it what _he_ wanted? He didn't know, didn't want to think about _that_ either. Too many traps down that road and why should he have to think about these things anyway? Why couldn't he just enjoy the moment while it lasted?

“Do you need me to drive you into the city?”

San pushed down the reflexive denial that tried to slip from his lips to give the matter proper thought. He had no idea what time it was, other than probably late morning. Either way, Isshi's driving would probably be faster than taking the trains, even if it was only because he could take a more direct route. He had already lost so much time, it would only be right to do something to try to get a little back.

Except he was having a hard time motivating himself to leave this place. It was dangerous - and yet another thing he didn't want to examine too hard just yet - especially when he knew full well how much work was still waiting for him. At this rate he was going to get himself into rather a lot of trouble if he didn't stop being so selfish.

“I'd like that,” he replied at last, nuzzling closer in spite of his better intentions. This was not helping him get up. And then fingers were brushing along the line of the collar that had warmed so much he had practically forgotten he was still wearing it. A tiny shiver skittered up his spine and he tilted his head, offering himself. An offering Isshi accepted, lips brushing against skin.

“Do you think you know my kitchen well enough now to be able to make lunch for us, pet?” Isshi murmured, those few words enough to send another tiny shiver up his spine.

“I think so,” he murmured in response, pausing when he realized that, among the many things they hadn't yet discussed, they hadn't settled on how San should address Isshi when they were in a scene, even such a low-key one as this.

“Sir will do just fine, pet,” Isshi said, perhaps reading the hesitation in his eyes.

“Yes, Sir,” San hummed, surprised - and a bit confused - to feel heat blossoming in his cheeks. “Would you like me to start that now then, Sir?”

“Yes, pet, that was the general idea,” Isshi replied, a gentle teasing that didn't quite fit into San's expectations. “There are aprons in the drawer below the one with the dish towels, help yourself.”

Nodding at that subtle order, and the unspoken one that came along with it, San carefully extracted himself from the comforts of Isshi's bed and embrace. For a moment, he considered going to the kitchen in just his boxers. Isshi would surely appreciate it ... but he had no idea where Kuina was, if the brat was still in the house or gone out, and didn't feel like getting caught by his perverted friend in so little. Who knew what Kuina might try in such a situation. Better, he felt, to risk upsetting Isshi by taking too long getting to his orders by taking the time to get dressed first.

Except Isshi didn't get upset, or indeed say anything at all, silently watching as San slipped back into his jeans. This was going to take some adjusting of his expectations it seemed. Maybe a lot of adjusting. Maybe after lunch they really should draw up a physical contract. The thought of putting words to paper to define this sort of relationship was something of a novel idea, in his own personal experience anyway. He knew other people did it all the time, but he never had, had never even been offered the option. And again the thought that Kuina kept saying Isshi was someone completely different. Now that he was beginning to get some sense of just how much, he wondered once more if maybe Kuina might not have the right of it. Though the little imp would be insufferable if he did, making sure San never heard the end of it. Then again, maybe that wouldn't be such a bad thing.

~*~*~

Isshi lingered in bed even after San had dressed and was out of the room. Entirely not like him, to stay in bed this late, especially when there was no longer anyone else in it. Only two nights and yet he could smell San's scent lingering in his pillows. What the hell had he been thinking last night, to agree to this so easily? A useless question because he already knew. He had been thinking of pale skin and dark eyes filled with trust. Of a beautiful blue-haired man in a disarrayed kimono ... but also of another, of his former pet, lost to him for reasons he still did not know. Reasons he doubted he would ever truly know. The ache of it lurched through him, leaving tears in its wake.

And there it was again, San's scent, stronger now for his having rolled over to press his face into the pillows to stem the tide of his tears. What was lost could not be regained, but the universe, it seemed, was offering him a second chance. Perhaps even an apology for how very badly wrong everything had gone with Reno.

No, that was dangerous thinking. This wasn't the universe or even the gods, this was Kuina's doing, Kuina's meddling. There was no reason to think Fate was going to smile on him this time any more than it had in the past. Which didn't stop the irrational part of him from clinging to the idea that maybe, just maybe, this time things would be different.

Rolling over onto his back again, he stared at the ceiling without truly seeing it. He was doomed, his heart already conspiring with his imagination to provide him with mental images he wasn't sure were entirely appropriate. San and the dogs playing in the yard. San half curled against his chest, much as they had been last night, dozing while he read to him. San in nothing but an apron and a smile, offering him a homemade meal. San in nothing but his collar, kneeling before him and awaiting his orders. San flushed with desire and need, chained to his bed and writhing beneath him.

Scrubbing his face with both hands for a moment, Isshi then forced himself out of bed and into his shower. Such fantasizing was inappropriate, especially while San was downstairs at that very moment. Which didn't stop him from briefly remembering last night and glistening wet skin and that sweet, almost shy smile.

Yes, he was definitely doomed. And it was entirely Kuina's fault, that cheeky little monkey. Why had he adopted him again? Oh right, because at barely eighteen and already trying to make a name for himself and his band in the visual kei scene, it had been only natural, easy. If he had known what trouble it would bring him, he might have hesitated a bit more. Then again, as persistent as Kuina had already repeatedly proven himself to be, he wasn't so sure it would have changed anything.

~*~*~

Isshi sat in his parked car for quite awhile even after San had disappeared into his building, his lips still tingling from the kiss the young man had planted there. A token by which to remember him until they met again he'd said, coupled with a promise to call him soon. He wasn't sure he wanted to think about why this kiss had felt different from the last few. Or why he was still sitting there, parked outside San's building not unlike a stalker.

Shaking off the entire train of thought, he started up his car and returned home. This was hardly the time to be getting distracted by thoughts, wishes, and desires. Kuina had only known him for about nine months now, it was still entirely possible the little brat was completely wrong about this. And yet, try as he would, San's smile still continued to haunt him throughout the afternoon, popping into his mind at the most random of times. To say it was a bit distracting would have been a massive understatement and by evening he was thoroughly annoyed with his own lack of control.

“Tousan? Tadaima~ I brought company~!”

Of course he had. The one night Isshi was in little mood for even his own company, of course Kuina would bring someone back to the house with him. Honestly. He could have at least called first, made sure it was okay before just assuming Isshi wouldn't mind. How completely thoughtless, but then again it was Kuina, could he really say he was surprised?

“Tousan....”

One word was enough to snap his anger and send it crashing back down into darkness. Turning around, he couldn't help but smile when he saw Boye standing in the door to his kitchen.

“Boye-chan....”

“He didn't call ahead, did he?” she said, chuckling softly. “I told him, twice even! I suppose next time I'll just have to do it myself.”

“I wasn't sure you were even in town, after he kept coming back here the last couple of nights,” he said, closing the distance to hug her.

“I wasn't,” she said, stepping back a beat later with a tiny shake of her head. “Got back this morning. And before you yell at him, he didn't know, it was an unexpected family emergency.”

“I wasn't going to _yell_ at him” Isshi said with a slight huff, as if offended by the very suggestion.

“Ah, of course not, my mistake,” Boye replied, a smile warming her eyes. “If it helps, we brought dinner. It isn't much, just take out, but you've been feeding Kui for two whole days now, I imagine your kitchen will appreciate the rest. Come join us? I bought beer.”

Isshi twitched an eyebrow up at that addition, not fooled by the innocent expression Boye was trying to use on him. He didn't drink beer all that often, not at home at any rate, so why she would think that would be an enticement....

“I won't ask,” he said after a beat, shaking his head in bemusement. She smiled widely up at him, taking his arm to draw him out of the kitchen and into the dining room. Surprisingly, Kuina was sitting quietly at the table, looking a bit abashed with his hands tucked under his thighs. The tiers of a large lacquered bento box sat spread across the middle of the table, along with three pairs of lidded bowls.

“I thought you said it was take out?”

“It was,” Kuina said, nodding, though his grin turned sly as he continued to explain: “but Boye-chan said eating out of take-out containers would be uncouth. I think she just wanted an excuse to show off her new toys without having to cook the full meal herself.”

“Kuina!” Boye half protested, swatting at her boyfriend's shoulder. “It's not my fault my grandmother is half senile. It's such a nice set, of course I had to invent an excuse to use it.”

“Ah, well, for something like this, I don't mind being an excuse,” Isshi said, sitting down at the table. The happy smile those words brought was more than enough. Perhaps they might even be able to distract him for one night.

~*~*~

San had known it was going to be a bad day when he had woken up to discover that he had forgotten to reset his alarm and was, before even getting out of bed, already twenty minutes late. Hinky plumbing, burnt toast, a yelling landlady, late trains, and a couple rude gyaru had only further convinced him that there was no way the day was going to be getting any better. Not even noon and he was already needing a second shower. At least he'd had the (admittedly paranoid) foresight to keep a spare change of clothes in one of the pockets of his padded guitar case. And at least the showers at work had plenty of hot water.

“Oh, well, look who's finally deigned to grace us with his presence~!”

San clenched his jaw and grit his teeth. He was not in the mood to be the butt of Ray and Jin's joking around today, but he wasn't going to give them the satisfaction of snapping already either. In through the nose, out through the teeth, he wasn't going to let them get to him this time.

“And I suppose the three of you have spent the last two and a half hours just sitting around with your thumbs up your butts?” he muttered, though he aimed his glower entirely at Jin. Three grown men shouldn't need him around to hold their hands and tell them what to do every step of the way. They weren't rookies, any of them, they knew how the business worked, what needed to be done. Which songs needed revisiting for upcoming lives, how to organize a set list. They certainly didn't need him to tell them how to sign privileges, though he could see the neat stacks of glossy prints that looked unsurprisingly untouched. Ray and Jin he could understand, but he would have thought at least Yu might have done something besides sitting there waiting for him.

“We all agreed to give it another half hour before declaring you dead,” Jin said, his words coming out as a thinly veiled sneer. What a ridiculous crock of shit. San had to remind himself that he wasn't going to let them get to him today, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

“Obviously I'm not dead, so how about you get off your asses?” he said, this time shooting an irritated look at Ray. He doubted it would be any more effective than his earlier glare at Jin had been, but he had to try, right? Especially when he'd actually _called_ Ray as soon as he'd realized what had happened and okay, he'd had to leave a voice message explaining what had happened, but he wasn't going to believe the man hadn't looked at his phone even once in the last two hours!

“Well, we all know what you _haven't_ been doing this weekend,” Ray stage muttered. But instead of going to his bass, the other man closed on San with a predatory leer. “How 'bout you come home with me tonight and we get that stick out of your ass, hmm? Get you _all_ loosened up~”

Days like this, San wondered how it was that he hadn't strangled either of his bandmates before now. With a side of why he had ever agreed to work with them in the first place. Though they had both been far more ... charming when he had first met them. Or at least Ray had. Jin had always been and would always be Jin ... so how he still managed to talk San into going out drinking with him was one of life's little mysteries that even San himself didn't understand. And he wasn't so sure he ever would, either.

“Bite me,” he muttered without thinking, inwardly groaning when he saw Ray's eyes light up at the unintended invitation. Well, he would put an end to _that_ thought right now. “Come on, your bass isn't going to play itself. Too bad, that; at least then I wouldn't have these headaches.”

“Yeah, you _definitely_ need to come home with either Jin or me tonight,” Ray muttered as he slouched over to his bass.

“Plenty of San to share,” Jin said, leaning a little too casually on his mic stand. “He's wound up so tight, it'll probably take both of us to get him completely ... _unkinked_ again.”

“Can you two save your flirting for later?” Yu said, a halfway rare interjection. Seemed San wasn't the only one who wasn't in the mood for Ray and Jin's usual bullshit. “I'm not paying for studio time so you two idiots can stand around discussing how you're going to fuck San later, so can we get on with it?”

 _In through the nose, out through the mouth_ , he reminded himself silently. At least Yu's comments had given Jin and Ray both the needed push to actually get serious about rehearsal. They even agreed to take lunch in so they could make up for some of the morning's lost time. A steady focus that he was sure would disappear the second he left the room, but he couldn't skip a meeting with management. 

“I've got a meeting, will you guys _please_ start on signing those privileges while I'm gone?”

Jin's dismissive wave wasn't reassuring, but maybe this time at least Yu would actually do it? A hopeful thought he tucked away as he met up with their manager and some suits he didn't know. At least it was a fairly short meeting, the suits wanting to review UnderCode's plans for Nega for the next twelve months. San listened and nodded like a good little soldier, making a mental note to double check on the July schedule later. Wouldn't do to have anything not scheduled exactly right, not with something as important as this.

Jin and Ray were the only ones in their room when he got back. That ... couldn't possibly bode well. Unless Yu had just stepped out for a minute? But he couldn't see any of the drummer's things where they usually would have been if that had been the case.

“Where's Yu-kun?”

“Went home,” Ray said with a half shrug. “Something about some family stuff or something, he said he'd come in early to finish signing the glossies in the morning.”

“Fine, whatever,” San muttered, stalking over to the storage cabinet. “Ought to have a metronome in here somewhere, that'll keep a steadier beat anyway.”

“You really are all hiss and spit today,” Ray said, the teasing gone from his tone, replaced with something that sounded almost like caring. “What gives?”

“You're going to ask me something like that after the way you and Jin-kun have been all day?”

“Not any worse than most days,” Ray said with another shrug. “And this is worse than your usual Mondays. What, is it that time of the month again or something?”

The metronome slammed down onto the table considerably harder than San had intended. He had been holding it together pretty well, he thought, all things considered. So of course the minute he got back, Ray had to start needling him again. He was sick of it.

“What were you up to this weekend anyway?” Ray asked, frowning suddenly. “I figured I'd have both you and Jin-kun on my doorstep the other night, then he was slurring something about you having someplace better to go. What could be better than my place after a night of drinking?”

“Oh like you even care,” he snarled, feeling himself nearly shaking he was so close to losing it. Was that what had happened that night? He still couldn't remember. Three years now they had been a band together, two and a half since it had become just the four of them. How had it gotten to this? “I could have been dead in a ditch or locked up in some weirdo's basement for all you knew and not even one attempt to contact me the whole weekend?”

“Oi, I walked you all the fucking way to that damn neighborhood you were so determined to get to,” Jin growled back, his face livid. “You made it pretty fucking clear you didn't want to spend any more time with me, _princess_ , ditching me at the station like that. So why don't you take that prissy ass of yours back to whatever high class _danna_ you found and get him to fuck you properly. Or do I need to send him some suggestions on what to do with a dirty whore like you?”

San's hand stung like a bitch; he had never slapped Jin before, not once in the over two years of these bitch fights. And now he knew why, the air whooshing out of his lungs as he was shoved hard against the wall, Jin's breath hot and angry on his face. He couldn't catch his own breath, not with the way Jin was leaning onto the arm across San's shoulders and the hand tight around his throat.

“No,” Jin purred, a sick feeling twisting in San's stomach at the familiar darkness in the other man's voice, the curl of his lips that wasn't a proper smile. “I've got a better idea. Ray, lock the door. And give me your belt. And get his panties off. Can't have him screaming for the whole building to hear.”

San shook his head, trying to protest, to resist, to think of anything that would make Jin stop this. But of course it was too late for anything he said to mean anything. It had been too late to stop this from the moment he had slapped Jin. Maybe even from the moment he had walked back into the room. All that was left was to make it through this fresh nightmare.

~*~*~

San huddled in his coat, thankful once more for its protective bulk, the virtual anonymity it offered. Even so, the walk from the station to the now familiar wooden gate had him shaking with the cold. Or was it the fear of rejection that had been gnawing at the back of his mind from the moment he had stepped onto that train instead of the other one? But he knew he couldn't go back to his apartment alone and he didn't know where else to go that wasn't Osaka.

Two dogs came running across the gravel with happy barks and wagging tails well before he could reach the house himself. Mindful of the guitar case on his back - and his own aching body - San knelt down to greet the two animals. Glancing up, he felt another quake of fear at seeing Isshi at the front door, nearly losing his balance when Pinky suddenly tried to jump up onto his shoulder.

“Pinky! Gucci! That's enough, back to the house now,” Isshi scolded and San was more than a little distressed at how quickly Isshi had closed the distance between them to come to his aid. Aid he both did and didn't want, quickly rubbing gravel from his hand before allowing Isshi to use it to help him up.

“If you wanted to come to the house, San-kun, I would have been happy to pick you up from your studio.”

“N-no!” San stammered, immediately blushing at the knee-jerk verbal reaction. “I ... I mean, it ... that is, I, um, it wasn't planned or anything, I just sort of, um ... ended up here?”

“That's quite the wrong turn,” Isshi teased, gently shepherding him towards the house. San didn't know what else to say for himself, meekly going along with his host. And was immediately faced with another problem - in the house, he would have to shed his coat, his protective shield. As long as he kept his scarf wrapped close to his throat, there wouldn't be any obvious marks of course - Jin was a vicious bastard, but he wasn't an idiot. But at the same time, San wasn't all that confident that he could get out of his coat without exposing himself somehow.

“I was just heating water for tea,” Isshi said, holding a hanger and obviously expecting San to surrender his coat. As he started to ease the soft case from his shoulder, though, another thought occurred to him.

“Ah, um, actually, this is going to sound odd but, um, could I, um, borrow your washing machine? Some gyaru decided, in addition to yelling at the street vendor about the order mix up, to throw the whole bowl at me.”

“ ... if that's how your whole day has gone, no wonder you ended up here,” Isshi murmured, offering him a sympathetic smile. “Of course, San-kun. I'll be in the kitchen.”

Nodding, San scooped up his guitar case once more, still bundled in his coat as he trotted down the hall to Isshi's utility and laundry room. He leaned against the closed door for a moment before tossing the morning's laundry into the small machine. No way his coat would fit, too, so he settled for spot cleaning it, leaving it to hang over the utility sink. Leaving his guitar case there as well, San then ducked into the bathroom to make sure his scarf completely covered the bruises from Jin's hand. All other evidence lay hidden under long sleeves and denim, yet somehow he still felt naked. As if Isshi would somehow be able to see them anyway. His stomach twinged, but there was nothing in it for him to vomit.

The sound of barking dogs dragged him from his self-loathing thoughts. A last check in the mirror and he forced himself to leave the bathroom before Isshi could come looking for him. Halfway to the kitchen, however, he realized he was hearing voices approaching the house. Oh gods above, his senpai had already had plans for the evening and here he was, just blundering his way right into them. Maybe he could ... no, there was no way he could escape without making this whole thing worse. How could he be so stupid as to not even ask if his senpai had plans first??

“San-kun?”

San yelped and nearly jumped out of his own skin at the sudden voice, the touch of a hand to his shoulder. The hand's owner, standing in the door to the dining room, had both hands up and a chagrined smile on his face.

“Sorry, didn't mean to scare you. Issama mentioned you'd come to the house. I'm Naoki, by the way. The tea's in here, ginger peach.”

“I-I didn't.... It's a pleasure to meet you, senpai,” he murmured, bowing as he fell back on deep-seated manners. So much for any fleeting thoughts of escape; he couldn't very well turn down an invitation to tea, his grandmother would skin him alive. That didn't make him any more comfortable with sitting at a table with two virtual strangers, however. Or, well, Naoki and one lump of blanket that he assumed was actually a person.

“ _Sou ka_ , the lump is Akiya. Akki, be polite and say hello to San-kun.”

A muffled huff and the other man surfaced from under the blanket, fussing with his hair.

“I can't decide if I want that to be Shinpei more or Izumi-kun. I'm so _hungry_!” his senpai whined, flopping back onto the floor before he was even finished with his complaint. In other circumstances, the whole thing might have actually been pretty funny, but at the moment San was feeling too nervous to do anything but flick worried glances between the two.

“We keep trying to teach him better manners,” Naoki said conversationally, “but they just don't seem to want to stick. It's probably hopeless at this point, but we'll keep trying!”

“I can hear you just fine you know,” Akiya complained from the floor.

“Are you sure? You still haven't said hello to San-kun.”

Another huff and his senpai was sitting up again, pinning San with a very serious look. “Ignore him, San-kun. The fluff he calls hair has infiltrated his brain. He does nothing but talk basses and nonsense.”

His message delivered, Akiya promptly resumed laying on the floor.

“See? Hopeless,” Naoki said, offering up such a world-weary-sounding sigh that San could only assume it was well rehearsed. What had he gotten himself into now? And yet this easy banter was preferable to what his day had been previously. As was the tea, a delicate balance of sencha, ginger, and peach that managed to be just sweet enough to be reassuring rather than overpowering.

“Is he...?” a new voice asked. At a glance, San suspected this was another of Isshi's bandmates, since it seemed he had accidentally invited himself to some sort of band dinner. He was even pretty sure this was Shin, the band's other guitarist.

“On the floor,” Naoki said with a nod in Akiya's general direction.

“Shinpei, if you don't have food, I don't want to see you.”

“I told you skipping lunch was a bad idea,” the newcomer said, settling next to Naoki, who was already pouring him a cup of tea.

“Shinpei, San-kun. San-kun, Shin. What happened to Issama?”

Shin nodded a silent greeting to San before half turning to Naoki and shrugging. “What ever happens with Issama? Probably one of the animals.”

San was probably just being paranoid, but he couldn't help feeling like Shin was covertly studying him for some reason. His eyes dropped to his tea, toying with the cup for lack of anything else to do. He was an outsider here, an unexpected variable no less, and a part of him really just wanted to disappear, to go back in time and never have come here at all. Especially when he realized no one was saying anything.

“So, San-kun is also a bandman?” but while Naoki had phrased the words as a question, there really wasn't one in his amused smile.

“Really? And I thought blue was his _natural_ hair color,” came a dry comment from the floor, words that earned the unseen speaker a wadded napkin. But it helped break the ice, at least a little bit.

“Aa, guitar and band leader for Nega,” he said, bowing slightly to his senpai. “We've been mostly centered around Osaka up to now, but the last several months we've been doing a lot more work here in Tokyo.” He wasn't about to tell his senpai that Isshi's house was the first place to feel like home since he had moved up here for the sake of continuing to push Nega forward. His own apartment was a place to sleep, eat, and sometime's work. Jin's flat was a hole he never wanted to see again, Ray's place was only somewhat better. And though Yu hadn't said, San was pretty sure the drummer was living with cousins.

“We really need to get back to Osaka soon,” Naoki said wistfully, poking Shin's elbow.

“Next spring,” Shin said, patting Naoki's hair. The elder guitarist looked about ready to say something more when Isshi practically materialized at San's side, one hand pressing lightly into the small of his back ... which was probably the only thing that had kept him from jerking away or otherwise making a complete idiot of himself.

“Izumi-kun just called in, said he's about ten minutes away,” Isshi said, murmuring polite thanks for the teacup Naoki nudged in his direction. Sighing then, the bassist nodded, offering an apology before walking out of the room.

“Akki?”

“If you don't have food on that table, I don't want to see you either, Icchama!”

“... if you're that hungry, why are you laying on the floor?

“Because,” the other man said, still laying on the floor, “you told me I had to wait for Izumi to get back when I tried that earlier.”

“Well, he's almost back and I'll bet Naoran would appreciate the help.”

Abruptly, Akiya was sitting up to the table again, frowning at Isshi a moment. A huff and then he rolled his eyes and stood, muttering about stupid backwards demons as he left the room.

“... if you try to ask me to walk the dogs...,” Shin said, a hint of a frown appearing on his face.

“What? No, no, don't be silly,” Isshi replied, waving off the very suggestion. San felt himself tensing at the realization that Isshi's other hand was still rubbing small circles on his back. No doubt in an effort to relax him, distract him from his own nervous thoughts. It had even been working, though now that it was just the three of them, he felt even more like he was being studied by his senpai. If there had been some way he could have excused himself, even if it was just to hide in an upstairs bedroom, he would have gladly leapt at the chance to escape this moment, but he could think of nothing.

“You didn't tell me you had a new pet, Isshi-kun,” Shin murmured after a beat, sipping his tea again, those dark eyes of his seeming to read into San's soul once more. He felt naked. No, he felt _dirty_ under that intense gaze, stained and unworthy. As if all his faults and shortcomings were suddenly laid bare. He shuddered and violently wished once more that he could just run away, escape.

The hand at his back stilled, then moved to gently tug San closer, becoming a possessive arm about his waist. He tried not to flinch when it hit a fresh bruise, sending his nerves and worry even higher.

“We still have some details to settle,” Isshi murmured and San could swear he could feel Isshi frowning at him, though he dared not look up to see if he was or not. Instead he tried to still his racing thoughts, to calm himself before he could give everything away.

“Just saying. You didn't have to make him wear a scarf. After all these years, Akki wouldn't've noticed or cared if he had,” Shin continued with a half shrug.

“I didn't. I haven't given him a collar yet. I also wasn't expecting to see him again until later in the week.”

Shin seemed surprised by Isshi's words, though San wasn't sure which part was so surprising. He watched as Shin's fingers danced on the tabletop and for a heart-stopping moment San wasn't at all certain that his senpai wasn't seconds from pulling the scarf from his neck. And then the impulse seemed to pass, Shin shaking his head slightly. San forced himself to take a deep breath and told himself to relax. He knew he couldn't keep Isshi from finding out about the bruises, about Jin, forever, but it still wasn't something he wanted to have happen in front of anyone else. For the moment, though, it seemed his secret was safe. But the subsequent lull in conversation was almost immediately working on his need to apologize button, in direct conflict with the comfort of having Isshi's arm around him. This was why he had come here, after all, wasn't it? To be comforted, to feel safe again? And yet he couldn't just ignore the fact that he was imposing, the shrill voice in the back of his mind that desperately wanted out of whatever this was.

“Anou, Issama, I -,” San started, his words cut off by the feel of a finger pressing to his lips. Looking up, his chest twinged at the amused smile lighting Isshi's whole face.

“If you're trying to get out of staying for dinner, pet, you may as well forget that thought right now. At best, Izumi-kun would give me ten kinds of hell for introducing you to everyone but him. More likely, he'd also send me out to bring you back for dinner anyway.”

“Mm, and have a few choice words with the rest of us while Isshi-kun was out tracking you down for letting him let you go,” Shin added, a wry grin appearing on his face as well.

“But....”

“No buts,” Isshi said, shocking him into further silence with a brief kiss. Irrational panic started pinging about his head. It was just a kiss, little more than a brush of lips to his, it was nothing but paranoia to think it was a prelude to anything else. Paranoia and twisted conditioning. But then he was a naturally paranoid person and after this afternoon.... Even though Kuina swore Isshi was nothing like anyone San had submitted to in the past, who was to say that Kuina even really knew what Isshi was like as a Dominant? Kuina certainly wasn't the submissive type, so what if he was completely wrong? He and Isshi hadn't properly discussed it, but “pet” had already turned into a sort of trigger word and for Isshi to use it on him in front of a bandmate knowing that....

“Never without your consent,” Isshi whispered into his ear. Such a small thing, only a few words, and yet it was everything. After the day he had been having ... he bit his lip and nodded, startled again when Isshi kissed his cheek.

“Maa, take this pot in to Naoran for me, won't you? And then you are going to have to tell me about this horrible day of yours,” Isshi said, a soft chuckle underlying his words.

“I'm sure senpai isn't really interested in listening to me whine about my petty troubles,” San murmured as he stood, taking up the empty teapot and heading for the kitchen. Isshi _would_ want to know about what had happened with Jin and Ray, but San wasn't sure how to even start _that_ conversation. And he certainly couldn't do it in front of Shin. As for the rest of it, well, the rest were all either fairly petty or would paint his band in a very unflattering light, something he didn't dare do so casually. Especially in front of senpai he had only just met.

San was surprised to walk into the kitchen to find Naoki and Akiya playing cards. Somehow he had expected them to be doing ... well, he wasn't entirely sure what, but something related to making dinner, at any rate.

“Um, Naoki-senpai? Issama asked me to bring this to you....”

“Hmm? Oh, right, you can leave it on the counter, I'll rinse it out in a minute.”

“Oh, well, I can do that....”

“Yeah, but you're a guest here, not a service monkey,” Naoki said, winking at him. “I'm going to use it for more tea for dinner anyway, but there's no point in starting that until dinner is actually getting cooked.”

“S-service monkey?'

“I told you, Naoran's full of fluff and nonsense,” Akiya said, flashing him a grin. “If Icchama isn't cooking, then it's usually up to Naoran. I'd ask if they're done discussing whatever it is Icchama didn't want me to overhear, but I doubt if you'd even know, so....”

“I don't ... I don't think it was really like that anyway?” San ventured. All they had talked about had been Isshi taking him as his new submissive and Shin had sort of implied that there was no need to keep that a secret from Akiya. Unless the secret they were wanting to keep from Akiya was something they had saved until he had also left the room?

“Wait, let me guess, they were talking about you?” Akiya said, shifting in his chair to plant his elbow on the table and lean his cheek against his fist.

“Told you he was Icchama's submissive,” Naoki said, casually playing a card out of his hand before turning and smiling up at San again, tapping a finger to the side of his nose. “I can always tell.”

“Ah, um, well,” San stammered, not at all sure how to respond to what his two senpai had said.

“It's fine, you don't have to deny it or anything,” Akiya said, grinning impishly. “Ten years now we've been a band together, we've shared plenty of pretty close quarters. Enough that I know way more about my bandmates' kinks than Icchama likes to admit. Naoran used to be completely dreadful at the Be Quiet game.”

“Oi! The only times I'd fail was when they'd gang up on me!” Naoki huffed. “I'd like to see _you_ stay quiet with all three of them focused entirely on you!”

“Never going to happen,” Akiya chirped, winking at San. “Especially not now, ne San-kun? You don't need to hide the collar with that scarf, by the way.”

“I-I'm not,” San mumbled, glancing back at the doorway to the hall. Isshi really had been expecting him to be gone only a few moments, surely, was probably wondering what was taking so long. He wasn't sure he wanted him coming to find him and walking in on this conversation, though, even with as innocuous as it had been so far.

“They're so cute when they're shy,” Naoki teased, chuckling.

“And that sounds like a car in the drive, so I guess San-kun is safe ... for now~” Akiya added, patting San's shoulder as he passed him to go to the front door. Naoki gave him a similar pat before leaving him alone in Isshi's kitchen. Allowing himself a heavy sigh of relief, San ducked down to the laundry and hung his clothes to dry before giving himself another check in the bathroom mirror. And sighed to see everything was as it had been before, still completely covered. His paranoia really was getting the better of him. Taking another deep breath, he double-checked his scarf and then went back to the room loosely designated as the dining room.

“Ah, there you are, kitten. I was beginning to think I was going to have to stage a rescue, my dear,” Isshi teased.

“Izumi-senpai is back and I needed to change my laundry,” he said, surprised at how easily Isshi drew him close. And how easy it was for him to lean against his shoulder. The day must have been catching up with him more than he had realized if he was allowing such intimacy in front of another.

“Ah, in that case I'm afraid I'll have to have you curl up over in the corner for a bit while Shin-kun and I get things set up for dinner.”

San nodded and sighed, scooting up against one wall to watch as the kotatsu was taken away and a table large enough for all of them was set up in its place. Place settings began to appear as well and while a part of him wanted to do something to help, another part was reminding him that not only had Isshi asked him to stay where he was, but Naoki had also mentioned that he was a guest, not someone who should be serving. And that was _with_ his senpai knowing, or at least guessing (correctly) about his relationship with Isshi. Which made no sense at all, but.... Besides, if he didn't move there was less chance of something jostling or snagging his scarf loose and that, more than anything else, kept him right where he was.

When he was introduced to Izumi, he once again felt like he was being scrutinized intently. He couldn't tell from the slight nod if he measured up to Izumi's standards or not, but at least he didn't feel quite as exposed as he had under Shin's eyes. For better or worse, Izumi also didn't mention the scarf or do more than glance at it once.

The dinner itself reminded him of home, after a fashion. His sister had her own life now, though the last time she had come home for a visit, the dinner table had been as genial as this, between her, her husband, and her two kids, along with himself and their parents and grandmother. As much as he didn't really need this place to feel any more like home, he couldn't help the comparisons. Though he did feel bad that by the end of the meal he was having a hard time even just keeping his eyes open. He hadn't even had more than the one cup of sake!

“All right, kitten, bedtime for you,” Isshi murmured and San blushed at how easily his senpai was able to scoop him up into his arms. Too embarrassing and yet he still slid an arm around Isshi's shoulders, offering no resistance. Let them gossip, they were already going to do that anyway.

San blushed slightly when he realized Isshi was setting him down on his own bed. Then again, he probably shouldn't have been so surprised. Outside of one nap on the couch and one in a guest bedroom, every other time he had slept here, he had done so in Isshi's bed, so why should he stop doing so now? But feeling the scarf moving against his skin as Isshi started to pull it free was enough to snap him awake, latching onto Isshi's wrist.

“I can do this much,” he mumbled, averting his eyes but not yet letting go of his senpai. “You have guests, you should be taking care of them, not me.”

“Maa, those are my brothers, they won't suffer for me spending a bit more time with you, kitten,” Isshi murmured, his other hand carding fingers through San's hair. Dammit. He didn't have any other argument to offer that had nearly as good a chance of Isshi accepting it and leaving him to undress in his own time. But Jin and Ray were _his_ problem, he needed to deal with them in his own way. And he certainly didn't need Isshi's first impression of his bandmates coming from the lurid bruises they had left behind. San felt as if his fingers were stuck, too afraid to let go of Isshi's wrist, too afraid to let him see what his two bandmates had done.

“I've been too much of an imposition already,” he murmured, trying again anyway. And inwardly flinching when Isshi's fingers stopped their gentle pettings.

“San-kun, I thought we agreed that you wanted more than just a bedroom relationship out of his ... situation of ours,” Isshi said softly and San felt heat rushing into his cheeks. He wasn't sure if they had or not, though it was certainly true enough.

“I....”

But the words weren't there. And then Isshi was tilting his chin up, forcing him to meet soft brown eyes filled with concern for him.

“I know you didn't come here by accident, pet,” Isshi said softly, little more than a whisper. “You had a purpose, there was something you wanted from me. But I can't give you what you need if you won't tell me what it is.”

San blinked furiously in a useless effort to keep the tears contained, but he could still feel them slipping down his cheeks in spite of his intentions. Nothing had gone right today, why should that change now? He could feel his hand shaking as he hesitated, but there really wasn't any _good_ way of telling Isshi what had happened. That was why he had been avoiding it, after all. And his tears were definitely not easing the worry he could see in his senpai's eyes.

“I just ... I needed ... I needed to be here,” he mumbled, knowing that wasn't much of an answer but hoping it might somehow be enough all the same. “After everything ... I needed to be here.”

He could see the urge to ask for more in Isshi's eyes and shifted to press closer so he didn't have to see it anymore, to risk giving in to it. Someday ... someday he would tell Isshi everything, but for tonight, he just couldn't bear it.

“All right, pet,” Isshi murmured, holding him close and gently petting his hair. “I won't pry, not tonight, but some day, yes?”

“Some day,” San agreed, sniffling slightly, surprised at how easily Isshi was letting him get away with not explaining himself. Something that must have shown in his body language as he felt a kiss being pressed into his hair, heard a soft chuckle coming from his senpai.

“We made an agreement, pet,” Isshi said, tilting his chin up just enough to brush a kiss to his forehead. “In exchange for your service and obedience, I promised to take care of you, provide for your needs. Including the need for privacy.”

Something warm blossomed in his chest at those words, something he was afraid to examine too closely.

“Thank you, Issama,” he said softly, feeling yet another blush in his cheeks.

“Will you still sleep in my bed, pet, or does your privacy need one of the guest bedrooms?”

“I ... I'd like to stay, please,” he mumbled, lowering his gaze again like a proper supplicating submissive.

“Then I'll be careful when I come up to bed later, pet,” he said, brushing another sweet kiss to his lips. “I'll leave you to it then, yes? Sweet dreams, San-kitten.”

Again with that warm feeling in his chest. And yet if this was doom, at least it was to be a good, soft doom? He couldn't accept that this could possibly last, there was just no way his senpai could want someone like him for very long. Especially not when he found out the truth, found out his faults. But until then he would cling to it for as long as he could, with everything he had.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reminder that this fic continues to include abuse of physical, sexual, verbal, and emotional natures. Another chapter with graphic violence, though not as severe as last chapter.
> 
> I know I've been uneven with it, but the convention is to italicize non-loan words that have been left untranslated, hence the italicization of "danna" throughout. A danna is/was an artist's (specifically) patron, with implications of sexual liaisons occurring between artist and patron as part of that patronage. It's debatable where the greater insult is being pointed, whether at San or Isshi.

San really had intended to stay in Isshi's bed, to let the other man comfort him and help him find his balance again. But when he had gone into the attached bathroom to wash his face, he had been appalled at the state of the bruises Jin had left on his body. Dark, ugly purple and yellow marks that would last for days, some of them would probably even last to the weekend, if not longer. If Isshi saw him like this ... well, he didn't know what Isshi would do, but it couldn't be anything good. San decided then and there he would just have to use one of the guest rooms, set an alarm so he could be up early enough to catch the first train. Isshi would probably be disappointed to find him gone so early, but San couldn't let his senpai see him like this. He would think of an excuse, make things up to him later, when he didn't have to hide himself quite so much, that was all there was to it.

~*~*~

“Eh? Isshi-kun, I think your kitten got lost....”

Those were unexpected words and Isshi turned away from his own door to see what Naoki meant. He wasn't quite sure what to think when he stopped beside his friend to peer into the darkened room and found San curled up in a ball on the bed his two friends usually used when staying with him. That was definitely not where he had left his kitten and he frowned at the sleeping form. Still in distress, darkness crowding all around his pet's aura, which was probably what Naoki was picking up on as well.

“If you want, I could carry him for you?” his friend offered, a hint of amusement in his tone. And in another situation it might have even been tempting, but the more he watched San's aura, the more he started to notice what he should have seen sooner.

“Leave it, Naoran.”

“Eh? Isshi-kun....” 

“He's claimed privacy, Naoran,” Isshi said with a slight shake of his head, stepping back and closing the door once more. “Use another room.”

He could practically feel Naoki's frown on his skin as the bassist stood there a few moments. A huff and then his friend was slipping back downstairs. Isshi wasn't even going to try guessing what that was about other than perhaps to say something on the matter to Izumi. Not that it mattered; Naoki would respect his request and let San be for the night.

~*~*~

San was back in his own apartment before he discovered the note tucked into the front pocket of his guitar's soft case. Scanning the note, he was even more surprised to find it was an offer from Naoki to be a sympathetic ear any time San wanted to talk about anything, one submissive to another. He wasn't sure what to make of that, worried over his senpai's motives. Naoki could have said the same words when they had been in the kitchen together, or really at any point in the evening, so why the note? Had he just not thought to make the offer until after Isshi had taken him up to bed?

 _You're worrying over nothing_ , he scolded himself, shaking his head as he tucked the note back into his case. At least his senpai had included his cell number, he would add him to his phone later. For right now, he had other things he needed to be doing, other worries to occupy his mind.

At least with it being winter, no one looked twice at San's scarf or long sleeves. And if he was a little more avoidant of other people's touches, well, that wasn't unusual for him, either. Still, he wasn't in the best of moods when he walked into their rehearsal space and, perversely enough, seeing Yu there already signing the privileges he himself hadn't even touched yet didn't really help.

“Morning, San-kun,” Yu said, flashing him a quick smile before getting back to work. “Sorry I had to leave early yesterday, family emergency. Everything go okay with management? You haven't done any of these yet yourself and after everything that happened yesterday....”

“Yeah, everything's fine, just ... something else came up and then, well, you'd told Ray-kun you were coming in early to finish them, so I figured it would be too mean to take them home with me, so....”

Which wasn't exactly a lie, but he had hardly been that clear-headed when Jin and Ray had finally finished with him. Yu glanced up at him again and San felt himself catch his breath. It wasn't really a secret that he and Jin had dated the first couple of years of the band, or that they weren't technically dating anymore but still sometimes having sex, but it also wasn't something any of them really discussed. Ray only knew so much about the whole situation, had only gotten involved in it at all, because of Jin. They had been out drinking, San and Jin, and of course the vocalist had gotten completely wasted. If San had known then what it would have ended up costing him, he would have gone ahead and risked calling a cab instead of Ray. His skin itched at the memories from the day before and for a moment he thought he might be sick.

“Oi, San-kun, are you okay??” Yu asked, suddenly holding him up by his shoulders. “You turned green for a second there....”

“Yeah, yeah, I'm fine,” he said, trying to wave off the other man's concern. Without success, it seemed, since he found himself being sat down and firmly told not to go anywhere. Rubbing his temple, he wondered what else was going to go wrong today, how bad this whole week was going to be after starting out like this. Still, he appreciated Yu's genuine concern for him, thanking him for the tea.

“I really will be okay,” he mumbled, sipping the tea. Just regular sencha, but somehow it helped.

“Of course you will,” Yu said with a nod, already signing privileges again. “San-kun is too stubborn to settle for anything else. But it's okay to admit it if you're sick, too, you know. Especially if you're so sick you're turning colors.”

“I'm sure that was just your imagination,” he said, starting with one of the other stacks that Yu had already finished. They were scheduled to start rehearsal soon, but knowing Jin and Ray the way he did, he doubted either of them would actually be on time. And that was fine, really. Once the two of them turned up, they would be as loud and obnoxious as ever, he was sure of it. It was a nice change to not have to immediately start his work day with that.

With something this simple, it shouldn't have been possible for someone to sneak up on him, and yet he nearly jumped out of his skin at the unexpected feeling of arms closing around him. It took him a second to recognize the sharply spicy scent of Ray's preferred cologne, though even that didn't really make him relax.

“Here you are~ Jin-kun was so upset when we dropped by your place last night and you weren't home. So, what, did you go see that high class _danna_ of yours again then?”

Growling in frustration, he swatted at the man's arms, for all the good it wasn't likely to do him.

“Aw, don't be that way, sweetcheeks~! We were just ... _worried_ about you!”

San didn't miss that pause, the way Ray spoke. Worried. Right. Meaning Jin had been looking for another round of fucking him. Never mind that they hadn't been dating for most of a year now. Never mind that _Jin_ had been the one to drop him, kicking him out in the middle of the night. Never mind that Jin hadn't even let him pack first. In the world according to Jin, none of that mattered, San was still Jin's property, supposed to be available to him whenever Jin wanted.

San was so fucking tired of everything being about what Jin wanted.

“Let go of me, you ass,” he muttered. “You're late.”

“Hey, it happens,” Ray said, giving him one last squeeze before letting go. Spinning around as he rose to his feet, San fixed both Ray and Jin with his coldest glare. Not that Jin was even paying attention, too intent on lighting his cigarette. Typical. And definitely hung over, the both of them.

“Don't get so damn drunk then. If you two don't intend to take this band seriously anymore, then say so. If I need to start looking for another job so I can keep paying my bills, I'd like to know that now, thanks.”

“You don't have to get your panties in such a fucking twist,” Jin muttered around the butt of his cigarette. “We're, what, half an hour late? At the most? Considering you were over two hours late yesterday, _your highness_ , you can just shut the fuck up.”

His palms itched but San wasn't _about_ to make _that_ mistake again, even with the thin protection of Yu being present. Jin was obviously badly hung over and it was putting him in an ugly mood. He didn't need to give him any more reason to start thinking of hitting him around again.

“Still all wound up, I see,” Ray drawled, still standing too close for comfort. “I'd've thought we had been some help with that last night. And then spending the night out like that. Not that I don't love me a good tight fuck, but maybe Jin-kun really should give this _danna_ of yours some pointers.”

“Shut your fucking mouth,” San snarled, his hand stinging from slapping Ray. The bassist looked more than a little startled, as did Yu. “Stop talking like you know anything about anything, you ass.”

“... na, Ray-kun, Yu-kun, give us the room a minute, won't you?”

Ray snorted, a triumphant look on his face as he walked out of the room. Yu hesitated, glancing between him and Jin several times before squeezing San's shoulder and then following Ray out of the room. That ... he wasn't sure what that meant, wasn't going to think about it just yet. San could only stand there, watching as Jin deliberately took a last drag from his cigarette before stalking over to him. He loathed the smell of Jin's brand.

Jin's hand came up and San flinched away, but the vocalist only ran a finger along his cheek. And that was almost worse than if he had just gone ahead and struck him.

“That's right, slut,” Jin drawled, fingers catching his chin, forcing their eyes to meet. San was the taller by some several centimeters, but at that moment he felt lower than dirt. “I _let_ you take up the leadership, I _let_ you be the one to speak to management for us and deal with all that detail shit. Never forget who started this band, who decided to take a risk on a nothing little whore like you. You'd still be in some Osaka dive if it wasn't for me and Ray. And this is how you show us respect and gratitude? Speaking to us like that? Slapping Ray like that? What, you think just because you lead this band that makes you something better than what you really are, you worthless slut?”

San knew what Jin expected to hear, but the words tangled on his tongue, caught in his throat. Words that had always tasted of bile but had been so easy to say in the past now refused to come out at all. Seconds ticked by in silence, Jin's mood growing darker with each tick that those hated words weren't said.

“Now you listen to me very carefully, you useless fucking whore,” Jin snarled when the silence had stretched too long. “When I get Ray and Yu-kun back in here, you're going to apologize to them for being so disagreeable these last two days. And after practice, when Yu-kun leaves, you're going to get down on your fucking knees and _beg_ Ray to let you suck him off. You'll swallow every last fucking drop of his cum, then you're going to suck me off, too. And then maybe, _maybe_ , if I think you've fucking earned it, I'll take you home and fuck you good and proper. Do you understand me, whore? Or do I need to beat it into that empty fucking head of yours again?”

San swallowed thickly, but it didn't clear the clump of unsaid words in his throat. Too many seconds, he could see it, but he couldn't make his voice work at all. Until he yelped in surprised pain as Jin backhanded him, his rings cutting into San's cheek and lip.

“What a useless fucking cunt, now look what you've gone and done,” Jin muttered. “Go clean yourself up.”

San didn't even look at Ray and Yu - of course they had been standing just outside the door, of course they had been waiting right where he had no chance of avoiding them seeing what Jin had done - hurrying away to the nearest bathroom instead. The cut on his cheek wasn't as bad as he had first thought, at least; once it stopped bleeding, a dab of concealer would be enough to cover it. The split on his lip was another matter, however, San's knuckles turning white from the stifled frustration in his grip on the sink. At least they didn't have a live or photoshoot or anything like that for a couple of weeks yet, but that wasn't the point.

“San-kun....”

Of course Yu had followed him, worry plainly written all over the drummer's face.

“It looks worse than it is, honest....”

Yu huffed, crossing the small room to get a closer look for himself, snatching his chin when San tried to escape. San immediately froze, not used to such aggressiveness from their drummer. Was everyone after him today?

“Reckless idiot,” the drummer murmured as he let go of him. “I've got something in my bag that'll help with the lip. I suppose if I ask what happened, you'll just say something like you shouldn't've set him off.”

San blinked mutely at the other man, at a sudden loss for words. How much did he know and how much was he basing on ... on he wasn't even sure what. Was that why Yu had hesitated to leave the room? Had he been expecting something like this? Did he know about Jin's kinks? Or did he just think that their vocalist was an abuser with San cast in the role of the battered wife?

“What? Jin-kun's never been any good about keeping his mouth shut. Especially when he's drunk and horny. I suppose I have the advantage when it comes to dealing with his sorry drunk ass. Come on, we're going home.”

“But....”

“But? But what? Jin's a little boy throwing a tantrum. The only way to deal with that is not to engage him. Here, you take these,” the drummer said, pressing his keys into San's hands before slipping off his zipped hoodie and wrapping it around San's shoulders. “I'll grab your stuff, I'm parked in the garage two blocks north of here, level 5, row D, slot fifty something. I know it's cold, but I know the perfect place to go warm up. You can just come to Sendai with me.”

“Yu-kun....”

“Just a day trip. We'll stop by your place first if you want to grab a change of clothes or anything. Since I'm guessing you aren't going to want to spend the night there tonight. Now go, before this tantrum of his escalates even more.”

He was pretty sure he was supposed to be fighting this, but the offer of escape was so tempting. Sure, it was irresponsible to even be considering it, but it was just band practice. One day ... what could it hurt to run away for one day?

Of course skipping out like this was not going to make Jin any more pleasant. What would he do tomorrow if San just disappeared with Yu right now? Even worse, what would happen when Isshi found out about all of this if things continued to deteriorate? San didn't want to think about it. He couldn't. Running away wasn't going to solve anything.

“Yu-kun, I can't, _we_ can't,” he said, shaking his head and handing him back his keys. “He's already pissed enough, running away is only going to make him worse. I appreciate the thought, I do, but....”

“All right, fine,” Yu sighed, slipping back into the hoodie. “But we're going home together tonight. My place or yours, doesn't matter, but I'm _not_ letting you out of my sight.”

From the stubborn look on Yu's face, San knew better than to try arguing against the drummer's plan. That wasn't going to sit well with Jin's own plans, but San really didn't care anymore. Not his fault if Yu wouldn't leave without him, Jin would just have to deal with it. It was probably only delaying the inevitable, but San would take it.

He could feel Jin's eyes on him from the moment he walked back into their practice room, but when he started for his bag, Yu caught him, tugging him over to his gear instead. And then proceeded to be very obvious and slow about the way he fussed over him, dabbing something that burned onto his split lip, then something else on his cheek. Nodding at his own handiwork, Yu then straightened and turned on Jin. San couldn't remember ever seeing Yu glare like that.

“Does it make you feel like a big, burly macho man, hitting San-kun around like that? You do it again and I'll fucking end you. Both of you. If you wanted to be in charge of things so damn bad, then you should've stepped up and taken some goddamn responsibility for this band at the start. You want to dick around, fine, we end it right here and you can go back to Osaka and feel like a big fish again. Otherwise start acting like fucking adults and treat San-kun with some respect for once.”

Well that was putting the fox in amongst the chickens. For a moment, San was absolutely positive Jin was going to lash out at Yu, but instead he just snorted, turning his back on the drummer to light another cigarette. Clearly San had lost any semblance of control of the situation. Some leader he made.

“Look, Yu-kun, I don't know what you think –.” Ray started, but before he could even finish, Yu was already turning his glower and anger on him next.

“What I think is that I've invested too much time, blood, and money on this band for the two of you to be treating it like a joke the way you do. I think I'm sick of seeing San-kun trying to hide the bruises you two assholes give him that you think I'm not going to notice. I think I'm tired of wondering if this time, when I walk out of the room, is going to be the time you two sick fucks take things too far and leave him more battered than we can just wave our hands to explain away. I think if this shit doesn't stop right now, I'm going to take San-kun back to Osaka with me tonight and we'll have a nice long chat with Kisaki-sama about _all_ of this shit. And then we'll see how much luck you two have even getting work as a fucking _roadie_ in this business then!”

“You can stop talking like you know anything about what happens when you aren't around,” Jin growled. San stiffened at the feel of Jin's arm around his waist, Jin's breath hot on his cheek. “Isn't that right, San-kun?”

San had to force himself to keep breathing steadily, pushing away the rising urge to panic. He knew what Jin wanted to hear, but those words tasted like bile and ash in his throat. Fingers dug into his hip in a not so subtle warning to behave, to be a good little slut and do what Jin wanted. It used to be so easy, why was today being like this? A heavy sigh and he shook his head, stepping away from Jin with some effort.

“All of you, that's enough. Jin-kun's temper isn't the point. Let's just ... get on with things, all right?”

It wasn't an answer that satisfied anyone, but somehow it was enough to get everyone back to focusing on the real reason for being there. No one said anything when lunch was delivered in to them, his three bandmates being suspiciously focused on work for once. And no one said anything when, instead of packing his gear and leaving at the end of rehearsal, San sat back down at the table to finish up his signing. But it was impossible not to notice the way Ray and Jin were lingering or the way Yu sat down next to him, even though he only had a handful left to sign himself.

“You should just pack the rest of these up and finish them at home,” Yu said as he signed the last one. San shook his head, knowing he couldn't do that. He was mostly finished anyway, having gotten pretty good at signing things quickly. And there was still the matter of Jin's expectations, the way the other two were still all but hovering, pretending to be discussing some new composition.

“I told you before I wasn't letting you out of my sight and I meant it,” the drummer murmured softly enough that only San could hear him.

“I'm fine, Yu-kun. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?”

Instead of a verbal response, Yu took the pen from his hands and capped it. “Come on, I still owe you dinner from last week and you _know_ how I feel about unpaid debts.”

It was a complete lie, of course, but it seemed to be working. Jin was frowning, but he wasn't actually calling them on Yu's bluff, opening up the real possibility of escape. He couldn't very well refuse to let Yu take him out to dinner without a good reason, after all. And staying behind to suck off his bandmates wasn't a good reason, nor one he would have shared with Yu anyway.

“All right, all right ... so pushy today,” he mock huffed, gathering up the rest of his things and shrugging into his heavy coat before either of their other bandmates could decide to take a chance and either object or insist on tagging along. “Maybe you two can _not_ get drunk tonight?” he added as a parting shot over his shoulder. He couldn't help the feeling that he was getting away too easily, but he would take it. Better this than the alternative.

San wasn't sure what had prompted him to check his phone when Yu took him home to his cousins' house, especially after having ignored it all day. And promptly felt more than a little guilty when he saw he had two missed calls from Isshi. Leaving his guitar by the couch with his overnight bag, he made his way to the kitchen and a much needed cup of tea as he returned his senpai's calls.

_“Moshi moshi.”_

“Senpai? It's San. I'm sorry I missed your calls earlier. It's ... been a long day,” he said, feeling a bit lame for putting it like that.

_“It must have been. I was worried for you, pet. Disappearing from my bed, leaving the house so early, and then not answering my calls....”_

“I'm really sorry, senpai,” he repeated, wincing when Yu came up behind him and took the kettle from his hands. “I didn't mean to worry you, I didn't even realize I had my phone on silent still.”

Even in his own ears, his words sounded hollow. Thin excuses that couldn't possibly be good enough. The long pause from the other end only fed his fear. Was this enough of a failure that Isshi would break the contract ... that they still hadn't actually written? And wouldn't Jin just love to hear that, to hear that he had already failed again.

_“... still hiding the truth from me, then.”_

“I....” But what could he say to that? Especially with Yu still watching him. Not that he was wanting or even really trying to keep Isshi a secret from the other man, but at the same time....

_“This arrangement won't work if you don't trust me completely pet.”_

“I .. I know,” San murmured, the guilt gnawing at him.

_“I could order you to come to the house, to tell me everything. Is that what I need to do, pet?”_

“I ... you said last night....”

 _“I know what I said, kitten, but the more you hide, the more I worry,”_ Isshi said with such a tired sounding sigh it made San's heart ache. To know that he was the cause of that hurt.... But he didn't know what else he could do. If he told Isshi about Jin ... he needed to at least try to deal with him on his own first.

“I'm sorry, Issama,” he murmured, wishing he had something more to offer.

_“Don't be sorry, pet. Do something to make it right.”_

The line went dead before he could ask what Isshi meant. A shudder and San let his phone slip from suddenly numb fingers to clatter on the kitchen counter. Everything was going wrong.

“San-kun?? Oi, San-kun!”

San flinched at the worry in the other man's voice, the touch to his shoulder, and shook his head to try to clear the fog of despair those final words had caused in him. He had already caused his bandmate enough worry today, he didn't need to be making it even worse by acting so foolishly. Retrieving his phone, he stuffed it back into his pocket and took another calming breath.

“I'm fine, Yu-kun, see? I'm fine,” he said, forcing a smile.

“Bullshit. Who was that?” the drummer insisted, pushing him down into a chair and then all but shoving a cup of tea into his hands. As much as San was grateful for whatever reason had caused them to be alone in Yu's cousins' home, he knew his friend's family could be back at any moment and this really wasn't the time or the place for him to be explaining things to him.

“Ask me tomorrow,” he said, shaking his head. “It's ... it's private. And I'm _really_ tired.”

“Yeah, okay,” Yu said with a sigh, surprising San with how easily he was letting him out of explaining. “You should go get a bath before they get home. Kira-chan will keep you up half the night otherwise.”

San squeezed Yu's hand in genuine gratitude, taking the cup of tea with him. Maybe the bath would help fade the bruises on his body more quickly. It might even help him think of some way to do what Isshi had demanded. He had to at least try.

~*~*~

San had decided a long time ago that there was something inherently evil about Wednesdays. Most subtle than Mondays, but still decidedly evil. Jin turning up with a cold that had made him completely hoarse overnight at least gave San an excuse to send him home for a couple of days, to breathe a bit easier himself. At least until after practice, when Ray decided to invade his personal space again, arms trapping him against the bassist's chest.

“You know, I was really looking forward to you _apologizing_ to me last night, and then Yu-kun had to ruin it,” the bassist purred, words that didn't reach past the two of them. San glanced around the room, surprised to see they were there alone. After what Yu had said yesterday, he was a little unnerved. True, without Jin there, San was marginally safer, but still....

“Let go of me,” he growled, trying to pull free without success.

“Oh no, sweetie. You still owe me an apology. I won't even make you beg like Jin-kun does. 'Course we can always go take our sick vocalist dinner and you can do your apologies then if you'd prefer?”

“I don't belong to you, Ray-kun, I never did. Now let go of me.”

He didn't know why he had thought that would work this time when it never had in the past. If anything, Ray's arms tightened around him.

“If you want to get technical about it, no, that sweet ass belongs to Jin-kun, but he's never minded me borrowing you before so why should he start now?”

“I'm not _Jin's_ property either, you ass,” he growled, trying again to pull himself free of the arms curled tight around him, but Ray wasn't having it.

“Oh yes you are, sweetcheeks,” Ray purred, nipping at his ear. “Like you'd be anywhere without him. You think that's a debt you can just repay? Now be a good little slut and apologize for being so nasty to me yesterday.”

San stopped fighting then. What was the point? His life had been this way for three years now. Isshi wouldn't approve, but then Isshi wasn't going to want to him for long anyway. And then he would be right back here, with Jin and Ray. And all their accusations and little snarky comments about how of course no one else would want a useless whore like him. Swallowing down a sigh, he forced himself to relax, to stop fighting completely. This used to be so easy, funny how one week could change so many things.

“There's a good boy,” Ray purred, letting go of him enough that San could turn around. Suppressing a shudder of revulsion at his own lack of spine, he rubbed a hand over the front of Ray's pants.

“Is this what you want then? Is this the only way you can get any, by making me pretend I want you?” San hissed, voice dripping in naked malice. He might not have had much choice in the matter, but that didn't mean he had to just roll over and take it.

The sudden and unexpected knock on the door was barely adequate warning for San to escape Ray's hold on him before the door swung open. He stepped back again, wishing he could pinch himself without it being obvious and suspicious. But it couldn't possibly be ... could it?

“S-senpai....”

“Am I interrupting?” Isshi asked, one eyebrow twitching upwards.

“No,” San said over the top of Ray's yes. “Not at all. We were just packing up.” San could feel Ray glaring at him as he grabbed his things, but he didn't care. He didn't know how Isshi had found him or why, and he didn't really care, either, not just yet anyway. That Isshi had even made the effort said so much more, even if he wasn't entirely sure what all those things were. Or perhaps merely didn't want to admit to them.

“I thought we could have dinner together? If you have the time.”

“I'd like that,” San said, a real smile finding its way to his lips for what felt like the first time in days. And seeing that smile returned.... If only this feeling could be real, could be made to last.

He was a little surprised when they ended up walking to a local izakaya instead of Isshi driving them back to the house. But it was good food, and if their dinner conversation wasn't particularly deep or meaningful, it was still a real conversation in which San ended up talking quite a bit more than he had intended. But Isshi had kept asking questions about Nega and Osaka and it had just ... felt so easy and natural to open up to him, to tell him everything he wanted to know.

Another surprise when, after dinner, Isshi drove him to his building instead of back to the house. It made sense, of course, for him to stay in the central city when he had work in the morning, but at the same time, he really wanted to spend more time with Isshi.

“Come up for a cup of coffee?” he blurted out before Isshi could bid him a dismissing good night. “Or I guess tea would make more sense, considering what time it is.”

“I'd like that,” Isshi replied, smiling. “I just need to park the car.”

“I'll go get the water started,” he said as he started sliding out of the car. “Third floor, apartment six.”

San needed all of his self-control to keep from running up to his building, though it wasn't enough to stop him from taking the stairs two at a time. His apartment was in quite the sad state of neglect after two and a half weeks since the last time he had actually cleaned. As soon as he had the kettle on he was rushing about trying to disappear the worst of it. As neat and clean as Isshi's house was, he felt even more ashamed of his own messiness. Things still weren't nearly as organized as he would have liked when Isshi knocked on his door, but at least the papers were mostly corralled. And his laundry was all in the laundry basket, instead of scatted across the whole apartment.

Thoughts that went clean out of his head when, as soon as the door was closed behind them, Isshi was pulling him close and kissing him. His skin tingled with the feel of one hand fisting in his hair, the other firmly gripping his ass to hold him pressed close. As if he wasn't more than willing to do that of his own accord, his arms winding around Isshi's neck as he gave in to him with a low moan. And then all too soon, Isshi was pulling back, though there was a playful smile on his lips, alight in dark eyes.

“You looked like you needed that,” he murmured, brushing a far more chaste kiss to his lips. True enough and he could feel himself needing a whole lot more besides, but he didn't want to push. Only two days, he was still more bruised than he wanted Isshi to see.

“Mm. I'll go get that tea if you want to make yourself at home? Er, such as it is. Sorry it's a bit of a mess,” he said, reluctantly pulling away from Isshi's embrace. “I usually clean on the weekends and, well, er....”

“In other words, it's my own fault?” Isshi teased, giving his arm a parting squeeze before going to the couch. San could feel heat flooding into his cheeks as he tried to stammer a response to no avail. That was unfair, he would never have said such a thing! But the other man was laughing, so maybe it was all right? Though he felt less certain when he walked back into the lounge with the tea tray. Stacks of paperwork, sheet music, DVD and game cases, and a dozen other things lay in less than tidy piles all about the room. It wasn't as bad as it had been ten minutes earlier, but he couldn't help feeling guilty about it.

“Don't fret so, San-kitten,” Isshi soothed, carefully scooting aside a stack of papers so there was room on the coffee table for the tray. “A little disorder isn't going to offend my oh so delicate sensibilities.”

San felt his blush deepening at those words, focusing on pouring a cup of tea for his senpai so he didn't have to look at him for at least a little longer. Which would have worked better if Isshi's hand hadn't reached out for his, drawing his attention back to his senpai like iron to a magnet.

“I promise, San-kitten, it's fine. You don't have to be so nervous.”

San couldn't find the words to respond to that, instead silently nodding and passing Isshi his tea. A delicate white tea with peppermint and ginger notes that had been marketed as a Christmas season special, San wasn't quite sure what had made him choose that particular tin for tonight or why he had even bought it in the first place. The surprise and pleasure that washed over Isshi's face at the first sip sent something warm skittering through his chest, though. And unlocked a knot of tension that he had been holding so long he had just gotten used to it being there, finally allowing himself to sit in quiet, slightly leaned against his senpai and just enjoying the tea.

He could feel himself drifting towards sleep, his teacup nearly empty, when the peaceful stillness was broken by Isshi's voice.

“I confess, I had a second motive for coming to find you tonight, pet,” his senpai murmured as he lightly rubbed San's back. San couldn't manage to offer more than a soft hum, but that seemed to be enough. “You mentioned a contract when we first agreed to this madness, but somehow we haven't managed to actually write one out.”

Oh that. San felt his blush deepen once more, not sure what to say. He had used the words in the hope that they would help Isshi accept the idea, accept _him_ , but he hadn't really thought about it beyond that. If he had even _tried_ to suggest such a thing to Jin in the past, the man would have laughed in his face ... and then probably beaten him for even considering suggesting it. As if there was a place or need for such things when of course San should just be a good boy and take everything Jin gave him, do everything Jin demanded of him, whether he liked it or not.

“Something wrong, kitten?”

“Ah, well, um,” he stammered, feeling even more silly for not being able to speak his thoughts clearly. “It's just that, well, um, I've ... I've never written a contract for something like this before....”

“Is that so?” Isshi said with a softly thoughtful hum. “In that case, kitten, we're going to need several sheets of blank paper and a couple of pens. And perhaps some more tea?”

“H-hai,” San stammered, still feeling himself blushing like crazy. He wasn't sure what Isshi had in mind, bringing him the pens and paper before disappearing into the kitchen to make them some more tea. There was no reason to be nervous, he told himself, and yet he couldn't quite make himself believe it, lingering in his kitchen as he waited for the tea to finish.

“All right, kitten,” Isshi said when San sat beside him once more. “On this sheet of paper, make four columns: one for things you enjoy doing, one for things that you don't feel one way or the other about but don't mind doing, one for things you would prefer not to do, and one for things you absolutely won't do. They don't have to be sexual things, though of course I'll need to know about those, too. But since we agreed to make this arrangement about more than just sex....”

San nodded, already seeing a slight problem in Isshi's plan. Even without him saying it so plainly, San knew what Isshi was trying to get from him was a set of soft and hard limits. An exercise that was taking considerably more thought than he would have expected, though that was likely because he knew, unlike with Jin, his senpai would let him say no. For once, _he_ was being allowed to set his own limits and it was stirring butterflies in his stomach.

“I'm sure I'm forgetting things,” he murmured when he finished, the entire page filled with preferences and limits. Isshi smiled at him, leaning close to brush a kiss to his temple.

“It's fine, ne? We can always make adjustments, it's not like we're setting things in stone, never to be changed,” his senpai said, trading him his filled page for a fresh blank one. “This time, make lists for things you absolutely have to do yourself, things you largely prefer to do yourself, things you would prefer to have someone else do for you, and things you absolutely need me to do.”

San nodded again, both in understanding and agreement. He simply wasn't used to thinking in such terms, the last column remaining stubbornly blank. He was so used to having to do everything himself, regardless.... Was it possible to be _too_ independent? Except that wasn't really the problem either. It wasn't that he _had_ to do everything himself - that list was actually fairly short - but that he was just so _used_ to doing it all that he couldn't think of a single thing that he definitely needed to have Isshi do for him. But he couldn't very well just leave the column blank, either, hastily scribbling in 'be there for me' before sliding the sheet over to Isshi, eyes averted so he didn't have to see the other man's reaction to his very unbalanced answers.

“Well,” Isshi said after a moment that had felt like centuries, “we can always adjust this part, too. How about you read this over and see what you think?”

To San's surprise, while he had been making his lists, Isshi had been writing up the framework of a contract. It followed a familiar structure, outlining their relative positions as Dominant and submissive. Where it was to stipulate responsibilities, it referenced the attached lists San had just completed, lists that, when he glanced sidelong at Isshi, the other man apparently meant to accept as written. San didn't know quite how to take that, instead moving down the contract. A surprise relief was the item where he was allowed, expected even, to keep his apartment. Not that he had any particular attachment to this place, but there was security in knowing he had a place of his own.

The last item, however, was even more of a surprise. At any time, if they both agreed, the terms of their contract could be renegotiated and adjusted or even canceled completely. The contract could only be terminated by mutual consent, that was not something one or the other of them was allowed to decide unilaterally. He bit his lip, hands shaking slightly with the strength of his own reaction to those few words.

“Eh? What's this? What's wrong, kitten?” Isshi murmured, frowning slightly. The words caught in his throat, San could only point to the final clause with a slightly strangled whimper and hope for the best. His senpai's frown deepened for a moment, then understanding appeared, followed in swift succession by anger and sympathy.

“Never and nothing without your consent, pet,” Isshi said softly, drawing him close against his chest and steadily rubbing his back. After three years with Jin, the very concept was such an alien thought, even with everything Isshi had already said and done. He couldn't help it, hot tears running down his cheeks in spite of himself.

“Seems someone's had another long day,” Isshi said after another moment of relative silence. “Come on, let's get you into bed. You can sign it in the morning.”

San could feel himself resisting that idea with a strength that surprised him, pulling away from Isshi's embrace and snatching up one of the pens. Determined, he signed his name to the bottom of the contract, the same as a hundred privileges and cheki before this. Sure, it wasn't legally binding like this, but what difference did that make? Worth it to see the surprise in the other man's eyes, a soft smile soon settling into place.

“All right, kitten, all right,” Isshi soothed, scooping him up into his arms almost too easily. “You've made your point. Now be a good pet and let me put you to bed?”

A deep blush rushed into his cheeks and San curled his arms around Isshi's shoulders, pressing his face into his senpai's neck as he was carried into his bedroom, only rousing when he realized Isshi meant to undress him as well. He tried to wiggle away, but Isshi caught his arm, pushing the sleeve up to expose the half faded bruising at his wrist. San froze completely at that. Shit.

“Are you ready to tell me who did this to you, kitten?” Isshi asked quietly and San couldn't help noticing the endearment. As if Isshi had deliberately not called him pet to leave open the option to say no.

“It ... it won't happen again,” he stammered, not sure how he was going to make that true.

“It had better not, kitten,” Isshi said and was that worry he saw in his senpai's eyes? “But if it does, I expect you to tell me about it right away next time, all right? I intend to protect you as best I can so long as you are mine, but I can only do that if you will let me.”

That was it? That was all Isshi had to say? No condemnations or demands, no yelling or epithets, no threats of violence or to cancel the contract he had only just signed? Just a request to be honest with him in the future? San could feel himself trembling all over, fresh tears springing to his eyes. It wasn't possible, it couldn't be this easy, this had to be some sort of fantasy, some sort of dream.

“Eh? Oh kitten....” Isshi murmured, pulling him back into his arms. San clung to his senpai, unable to stop the choked sobs that shook his whole body. How could Isshi say such things so easily about some useless nothing like him? And yet how could he not cling to those words, to the thin hope that maybe, just maybe, he could do something right in his life again.

~*~*~

San wasn't terribly surprised to find he had cried himself to sleep, but that obnoxious ringing really needed to go die in a fire about now. Blindly, unwilling to unburrow from his blankets long enough, he groped about his night stand for a phone that seemed not to want to be found.

“It's on my side, San-kitten.”

Isshi. San froze, his sleep-addled brain racing to make sense of things. They were in his apartment, in his bed. Isshi had spent the night with him, holding him and comforting him. San shivered, pressing himself closer to his senpai's warm and welcome presence. That soft chuckle made everything better. Well, almost everything. His head was killing him and he really didn't want to have to move.

“As much as I'm quite definitely enjoying this, kitten, I suspect that alarm means you need to be getting up and getting ready for work, yes?”

San huffed, rolling over to press his face into Isshi's chest. His senpai was right, but that didn't mean he wanted to admit it. Especially with the headache he was having, like an icepick to the brain. Not his usual sinus headache from a night of crying, which was probably a bad sign, though he was trying to ignore both it and the feel of his throat. After all, it would be completely irresponsible for him to call out sick. But maybe he could get away with calling in late? A soft huff and he reached past his senpai to grab his phone and turn off the alarm. He would just call Yu, let him know he would be a little late today.

_“Ugh, San-kun, my alarm doesn't go off for another ten minutes!”_

“Ah, sorry, Yu-kun,” he said, a little worried at the raspy sound of his own voice.

_“Oof, you sound worse than I do, San-kun....”_

“Yeah, I think I need to come in a little later than usual today.”

_“Nonsense, what you need is to stay in bed.”_

“Wha-? No, no, I'll be i-....”

_“In bed. I'll bring you lunch and if I find you anywhere but in bed, you're going to be in serious trouble, mister!”_

“Yu-kun, you don't -.”

_“Of course I do. If I didn't insist, you'd drag yourself in here and then probably pass out by midday.”_

“That's ... I would not!” he protested, annoyed at the way his voice cracked. Ok, maybe he wasn't feeling completely himself, but he wasn't so sick that he needed to be abandoning his bandmates like this. They had shows coming up, commitments. Just because they were already down one with Jin out sick, that was no excuse for laying down on the job.

_“You don't fool me, San-kun, I've known you too long now.”_

“I'm fine, I just need a little -.”

_“More than a little more sleep. I mean it, leader-sama, you're staying home today. I'll bet you caught whatever that ass Jin-kun's got, because gods forbid he keep his germs to himself. Get some more sleep, I'll deal with Ray-kun.”_

The line went dead before he could continue arguing. Huffing in frustration, he slapped his phone down on the night stand before rolling over to snuggle up to Isshi again. Or at least such had been his intention; he hadn't anticipated being caught by the shoulders and held back.

“I could probably guess what the other half of that conversation was, but....”

“Yu-kun has decided I'm too sick to go in,” San huffed, pouting again. For the person who was supposed to be the leader of their group, he sure didn't feel like it this week.

“Mm, well, as hot as you've been running since last night, he's probably right,” his senpai murmured, leaning close to press surprisingly cool lips to his forehead. Was he really running that high of a temperature? “Unfortunately, kitten, I still have to go to work. You rest, I'll take care of breakfast.”

As much as a part of San wanted to argue that he really wasn't that sick ... he couldn't help that the rest of him was reveling in the thought of not only being allowed to stay in bed, but of even being a bit pampered? He knew that was the sort of thing his senpai would do for him without even thinking twice about it, even if he wasn't entirely sure why. Perhaps it was just Isshi's nature?

When he found he had not only fallen back to sleep, but had slept through Isshi moving him onto the couch, San had to admit to himself that he was, in fact, sick. He was lightly wrapped in the comforter off his bed, remotes and Xbox controller on the coffee table in easy reach, and he could hear his senpai in his tiny kitchen, doing what he couldn't say.

“All right, kitten, here's breakfast,” Isshi said, depositing a footed tray in his lap. “I'll be back this evening to check up on you.”

San nodded absently, a little taken aback by the scope of the breakfast Isshi had made for him. Usually he would have grabbed a slice of toast and a milk tea on his way out the door, or else stopped at a Starbucks for something he could eat at the studio. Isshi had to be some sort of magician with the crowd of bowls on his tray: rice, miso, mackerel (where had that even come from? He'd been sure he was out), slices of rolled omelet, simmered tofu with negi and ginger, and one of his smaller clay teapots.

“Senpai....” But when he looked up, Isshi was already gone, the apartment empty. Scrubbing away useless tears, San flipped on the morning news for a bit of company with his breakfast, though that didn't last long. San had never been much of one to watch morning television, even when he had the time, and now he remembered why. After a round of the stations produced nothing he really wanted to watch, he decided to see what was in his Xbox, surprised and please to find Dead Island still in the player.

For the rest of the morning, San drifted between gaming and napping, startling awake again at the sound of someone letting himself into his apartment.

“Oi! What did I say about you staying in bed?! What is all this??”

“Mou, Yu-kun, it's not like that,” he said, trotting out his best pout. “Isshi-senpai stayed overnight last night, he's the one who did all the cooking and set me up out here.”

“Isshi-senpai? Who's this then?” Yu asked, annoyance or anger apparently gone as he continued into what passed for San's kitchen.

“Singer for Kagrra? We've, ah, um ...,” but San didn't quite know how to phrase it. He supposed last night could have been called a date, and not even their first, and yet somehow it felt weird to say they had started dating.

“Wait, is this the same Issama you were talking to the other night? Is that who Ray meant when he was teasing you about having a _danna_?”

“Um, well, Ray and Jin don't know who, specifically, just that whoever it is lives in one of the older outlying bedroom communities,” San said, toying with a loose thread on his comforter. “Well, Ray might suspect now, since Isshi-senpai sort of picked me up at the studio yesterday. And yes, he's who I was on the phone with.”

“I wonder if that's why I had to give him a pretty solid thump on the head to keep him from coming straight over here this morning, though I expect he'll be here as soon as management is done with whatever it was they wanted from us this time.”

“Wait, what?”

“Well, we spent about an hour arguing about things this morning - he didn't see the point in having practice when both you and Jin-kun were out sick. I eventually got him to shut up and agree to work on some other things at least until noon. Which is when management turned up wanting to speak to you, but since you were out sick and Jin was out sick and I had a family emergency, that left Ray,” Yu explained from the kitchen, doing something or other. San groaned and for a moment he wondered if it wouldn't have been better to defy both Yu and Isshi and just gone in to the studio after all. Dealing with Ray was going to be hard enough, but cleaning up after him with management was going to be even worse.

“Ah, I'm sure it'll be -.”

But Yu didn't get a chance to finish his reassurance before the front door banged open, then slammed shut again.

“San, your dirty whore ass better be fucking _dying_ or I swear to fucking Christ....”

San groaned again, sinking lower into his couch and pulling his comforter over his head. Of course it was Ray, of course he was in a foul mood. Tomorrow morning, first thing, no matter how deathly ill he felt, he was going to the local shrine and asking for forgiveness for whatever it was he had done to so offend the gods that this week was his reward.

“Do you always just barge into San-kun's place like this?” and there was that undertone of menace in Yu's voice again. Definitely going to make amends to the gods tomorrow.

“... wait, you said you had a family emergency! You mean I had to sit through that boring shit just so you could come over here and coddle San?? What the fuck?!”

“You'll live. I suppose it's too much to think it might have given you any insight into what he has to deal with or anything like that. Ne, San-kun, I've got your medicine.”

As much as he didn't want to face Ray, San couldn't very well hide from him forever. He made himself sit up and take the steaming mug from his friend and bandmate, not even looking at Ray, not yet. Theraflu, lemon flavored and sweetened with honey, it was almost too hot to drink, but he cradled it close, inhaling the steam. Funny how he didn't even realize just how sick he had been feeling until he was being given medicine, but the steam felt so good rising into his clogged sinuses.

“You never bring _me_ medicine when I'm sick,” Ray grumped, but at least the anger seemed to have melted out of him again. That was one nice thing about Ray's temper - he didn't hang on to his anger the way Jin would, much more likely to flare up hotly and then flame out just as quickly.

“ _You_ don't try to pretend like you aren't actually sick. I had to threaten him to get him to stay home at all, isn't that right, San-kun? And he still managed to get himself out of bed, against orders.”

“Yes, kaasan, and I already explained about this morning,” San mumbled between sips. It was probably going to put him back to sleep, but if it helped him feel better, he wouldn't really care.

“Right, well, since rehearsing is obviously out of the question ... you staying with him all afternoon then, Yu-kun?”

“At the very least, yes. If he's still sick tomorrow, maybe then you can have your turn at playing nurse. Then again, I'd probably come over anyway, just to see you dressed up like that~”

“O-oi! I ain't puttin' on no skirt for nobody!” Ray protested, more than a little flustered. San hid a grin behind his mug, though the bitter taste of the cooling medicine stole it away again quickly enough. Holding his nose, he downed the rest of the mug in one go, though in hindsight that might not have been the best way of going about it either.

“Ugh, okay, how about some actual tea now, you sadist,” he mumbled, frowning at his drummer. Yu merely laughed, taking the mug and disappearing into the kitchen again.

“I'm sure Ray-kun has other places he'd rather be about now, but I think I have enough negi here to make a bowl of ramen for you, too, if you wanted to stay~!” Yu called out from the kitchen. Predictably, Ray rolled his eyes and snorted at that comment.

“Just ... get better soon, all right?” Ray said a bit lamely, reaching out to ruffle his hair. After the last few days, the gesture caught San completely off guard. In spite of the accusations he had made at the start of the week, San had to admit this was more like the Ray he knew when they weren't drinking. When Jin wasn't making everything about kinky sex and his own twisted pleasures.

“I'll, um, do my best?” he said, offering the bassist a small smile.

“Please. Yu-kun's a pushy bitch when he thinks he's been left in charge,” Ray said, giving him a terribly pathetic hangdog sort of look. San bit back a giggle; Ray was doubtless exaggerating, but then again that was one of the things the bassist did best.

“Go home, take care of yourself,” San suggested softly. “If you get this, too, we're all going to be in trouble.”

Ray offered him a cheeky salute before turning and walking out of the apartment. Maybe the week would actually turn around now? A bit late, what with it nearly being over, but he would take whatever he could get at this stage.

“All right, tea and lunch. So, tell me more about this Isshi-senpai?”

San feigned great interest in his lunch tray, glancing sidelong at his friend and bandmate from beneath his lashes. But if there was some ulterior motive to the drummer's question, he couldn't read it from his face.

“Ah, well, um, a ... a friend introduced us a couple of weeks ago,” he confessed quietly, sipping his tea. “Turns out we have more in common than either of us had thought.”

“And now the two of you are dating? That's going to go over like a lead balloon with Jin-kun, you know.”

San certainly knew the truth of that, but to have Yu say it so casually.... Yet again San found himself wondering just how much and what Yu knew, thought he knew, or had just speculated to himself about San's personal life. Questions that needed answers, for San's own peace of mind, if nothing else.

“Anou, Yu-kun ... how ... how much do you ... what has Jin-kun said about us? About him and me, I mean....”

“If you're asking if I know about the kink, the answer is yes,” Yu said, quietly poking at his own noodles. “I don't know if he realizes it, I had to piece it together from his drunken ramblings, but ... I know he's a shit Dominant. Who tried coming on to me more than a couple times even before the two of you officially broke up. If that's even the right word for what you two are.”

“I ... I signed a contract with Isshi-senpai last night, I belong to him now,” San murmured, cradling his cup of tea and very much not meeting Yu's eyes. 

“That was fast....”

“Not really,” San said with a shake of his head, hoping he didn't actually wince at the worry in Yu's tone. “It was the only way he would even consider taking things beyond simply friends. If ... he said he'd come back tonight, if you wanted to stay and meet him? As someone other than another person in the industry, I mean.”

He wasn't sure if what he was doing was wise. Not so much because he thought Isshi would have a problem with it - on the contrary, he expected Isshi would be quite happy to meet one of his bandmates in a non-professional setting - but because he still couldn't tell what exactly Yu thought of it all. Yu snapping at Jin was one thing, especially since Jin earned every last sharp word, but if his drummer started saying that sort of thing to Isshi under some mistaken belief that San's kinks were really just abuse....

“Maybe. I've got some errands I need to run. Can I trust you to stay on that couch while I'm out?”

“As much tea as you two have put into me, I'm going to have to get up at some point, you know,” San pointed out, surprised to hear Yu laughing.

“Aa, I suppose you're right. I only said it because I didn't want you trying to work or making yourself worse with errands or something.”

“I'll be good, Kaasan, I promise,” he teased, hiding a smile behind his teacup. He was probably getting himself all worked up and worried over nothing. Yu wasn't going to be a problem, his friend was obviously just fine with him and his kinks - and that was a relief, to realize how readily Yu was accepting him just as he was - there was no reason to think Yu and Isshi would clash. Even Ray ought to be reasonably easy to handle. It was Jin who was going to be the real source of trouble. San just hoped he could figure out a way of handling it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BDSM relationships should always include negotiation of limits and definitions and those negotiations will take as long as they need to take. Things have been a bit abbreviated here for the sake of fiction, there should really be more give and take and discussion that what happened here.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's something sort of like porn towards the end of the chapter

Isshi was surprised, and pleased, when the whole day passed without San texting him, wanting to know what had happened to his keys. Which probably also meant his kitten was sicker than he had been wanting to admit, and yet Isshi couldn't say he was surprised by San's apparent stubbornness. That, too, was part of his “type” it seemed. A beautiful, young, typically male submissive, loving, affectionate, and expert at maintaining the balance between pliant - something Reno had, he realized now, never truly been - and stubborn. Isshi did not doubt that San would learn, as Sato and Amonn had before him, that balance. Would that such a thing could be enough to ensure a lifetime - or even just a few years - of happiness.

... what was he thinking? Had his traitorous heart truly fallen so far, so fast? So many things about his sweet kitten that he still didn't know, surely it was too soon to even be thinking in such terms! Nothing in that contract that he had signed only just last night had suggested that they were making a long-term agreement. His heart was running away with his head and Isshi genuinely feared what consequences that would bring.

“Someone's checked out early,” Naoki teased, grinning broadly. “Ne, ne, Izumi-kun, does this mean Issama gets a spanking~?”

“Oh, a spanking, a spanking!” Akiya chirped, right on cue, the little ferret.

“And I suppose you think you should be the one to give it to me, Naoran,” he half muttered, arms crossing over his chest. Ridiculous.

“Who, me? Now that's just silly talk, Icchama,” Naoki replied, still chuckling. Well, at least he had that much sense in his fluffy head still.

“There will be no spankings,” Izumi declared. “If Icchama simply cannot focus on his work any longer, he can leave. Of course, he'll have to make up the missed time to me _somehow_. And probably double time. Over the weekend.”

“Of course if Icchama can't last a mere twenty more minutes...,” Shin added, trailing off with a wry grin. A grin that said without words what he could tell all of his bandmates were already thinking - that his distraction was caused by his relationship with San. That was the problem with knowing people so intimately and for so long - they got to know you entirely too well.

“All right, all right, you've all made your point,” he mock huffed, uncrossing his arms. “Twenty minutes and then I'm going, so let's get back to it, ne??”

“Oi. Since when are you in charge?” Akiya teased, ducking away from Isshi's playful swat. He didn't actually intend or expect to leave so soon, wasn't surprised when they ended up staying a half hour late. Though it did mean he was rushing a bit to get everything he needed for the evening so he could return to his sick kitten's side. It would be worth it, though, he knew, to see that shy smile when San realized he was staying with him for another night.

“Tadaima,” he called out as he stepped out of his shoes, smiling at San's quiet “okaeri” from the couch. Though as he stepped into the main living space, he was surprised to find his kitten was not actually alone. The man sharing the couch with him looked somewhat familiar, though he was at the moment drawing a blank on how or why. Obviously someone San knew well since they had apparently been playing a game together just before the interruption of his arrival.

“Mm, senpai, I don't know if you've met before, but this is my drummer, Yu. Yu-kun, Isshi-senpai of Kagrra. I hope you don't mind, I thought he could have dinner with us? Maybe then he'll stop fussing at me.”

“Oi! Er, it's a pleasure to meet you, senpai. Um, can I help you with any of that?” the younger man asked, slowly rising from the couch.

“Ah, well, a pleasure to meet you as well, Yu-san. Would you mind taking these into the kitchen for me then?” he asked as he separated the two grocery bags from the others he was carrying, extending them towards Yu with a smile. Wouldn't be too hard to stretch what he had bought into enough for three people, especially when he had been planning on a hot pot in the first place.

As much as a part of Isshi still worried that San's abuser was a bandmate, it was a relief to know he could cross Yu off the list of possibilities. From what he was sensing of the man, the drummer had the wrong temperament for the sort of violence Isshi had seen on his kitten's body, reminding him far more of a worried mother with the way he would fuss at San, especially when his kitten got caught in a particularly bad coughing fit. He wasn't sure if that meant Yu also knew about the abuse or if he was just naturally that way. Knowledge of San's history would explain some of the more probing questions that had surfaced, however. Nothing had crossed the line into actually being rude, to be sure, but more than a couple had come close.

“Ugh, all right, all right, enough. Geeze. You can both go home now, it's a cold, not the plague, I'm not going to keel over dead or something if you aren't here fussing at me,” San grumped and Isshi had to bite back a smile. Definitely not feeling himself.

“Mou, San-kun, you don't have to say such things,” Yu countered.

“I'll probably be feeling all better by morning anyway, meaning there'll be rehearsal back on schedule tomorrow and you aren't allowed to get sick to get out of it, Yu-kun,” San grumped.

“Er, well, actually ... there could be a bit of a problem with that,” the drummer said, looking a bit embarrassed.

“... why?” San asked, noticeably wary and worried.

“Well, you said Jin-kun had to take at least two days off, and since Ray-kun and I agreed you probably had the same thing Jin-kun did, we went ahead and cancelled the reservation on the space, so ... no rehearsal until Monday. I even got most of the deposit money back, without bullying anyone even, so ... there's that?”

San just sat there gaping at Yu for a long moment, mouth opening and closing not unlike a fish until Isshi reached over and gently closed it for him.

“San-kun says thank you and that he appreciates the thoughtfulness and effort,” he said to the drummer with a small smile. “And so do I. It'll be nice to know I don't have to chain him to the bed to keep him from trying to go to work while still sick.”

“S-senpai!” San stuttered, bright red flooding into his face. But Isshi's words seemed to have the desired effect on the drummer, the nervous worry visibly melting out of Yu.

“Whatever it takes for him to get well?” Yu asked, smiling and then bowing politely. “Thank you for dinner, senpai, and please continue taking care of our stubborn ox leader for us.”

The way San was blushing and stuttering, one might think that Yu had somehow said something truly scandalous. Isshi ruffled his pet's hair before walking their guest to the door. And then quite firmly locking it. Sadly, he was all too certain that simple action wouldn't actually stop Ray from barging in again if the bassist decided to make another try of his luck, but at least it might slow him down long enough to think about what he was doing? All right, probably not, but Isshi could hope, at any rate.

“Senpai, you don't -,” San started when Isshi returned to sit beside him, but Isshi interrupted him, placing a finger across his lips.

“The one thing you said you needed for me to do for you was to be here for you when you needed me,” he said softly, pressing a brief kiss to his kitten's forehead. “You need me right now, whether you want to admit it or not.”

“But ... I don't want you to get sick, too.”

“I wouldn't worry about that, dear one,” he said, smiling and tucking an arm around him. There was little enough else he could do for his so independently minded pet, it seemed, but this ... this was something he could definitely do.

~*~*~

As much as Isshi had wanted to bundle up his kitten and take San back to the house, he knew the more prudent course would be to stay in the city for another night. Not that he didn't regularly make the trip from his house in to Minato-ku and back again, but this way he could stay with his sick kitten that much longer the next morning, even make him a proper breakfast before leaving for work. Inasmuch as there was no way he could call out sick himself - they had another interview and short photoshoot scheduled for the afternoon - he was just going to have to make the best of the situation. If Kagrra has to reschedule because he chose his San-kitten over his band, Izumi would be taking the lost yen out of his hide for weeks, if not longer. Better to not tempt fate. He could always take San back to his house in the evening, give them a whole weekend together.

“S-senpai?”

Isshi looked up, startled to see San leaning heavily against the refrigerator.

“San-kitten, what on earth....”

“I tried calling from the couch, but you weren't answering. I think....”

San trailed off with a hard swallow, the blood draining from his face. Isshi hurried to his pet's side, pressing the back of his hand to San's forehead. Burning up with fever. He was going to have to borrow San's phone later, ask Yu if it would be possible for him to look after San again tomorrow if his fever didn't break before morning.

“Unless you think you're going to be sick, maybe we should get you back into bed after all?” he murmured. To his surprise, San only hummed a soft assent, offering no resistance to being gently escorted to the bedroom. Almost too easy, the way he was able to get San back into bed.

“'m sorry,” the younger mumbled.

“For what, dear?” he asked, drawing the blankets up over the younger man's body.

“For getting sick like this,” the younger man mumbled, curling himself into a ball of upset.

“Such things you say,” Isshi replied, fondly scolding. “It's not like you did it maliciously, ne?”

“Well no, but....”

“Then relax, pet. Worrying about something like this, it's useless, ne? You just rest, focus on getting better.”

San's only reply was another soft sigh, but at least he wasn't a little ball of misery still. Isshi lingered at his side, rubbing his shoulder and carding fingers through blue strands until he was certain his kitten was properly asleep. He was relatively certain he knew what that apology had really been trying to say. It would be a lie to say he wasn't at all affected by how little progress there had been between them in these past few weeks. The traitorous heart that wanted more than just friendship, that had already gone off and gotten attached to this slender wisp of a guitarist, bruises and all. So much for his ability to resist what he knew to be madness.

Shaking off such thoughts, Isshi left his kitten to his sleeping. The dishes were already done and there was only so much straightening up of the apartment he could do when he didn't actually know where everything was meant to be. Making himself another cup of tea, he then settled himself in San's lounge. He had his laptop with him, it wouldn't be that difficult to pick up working on his novel again. On the other hand, he wasn't really feeling in the mood for writing. Flipping through the television channels wasn't capturing his attention either. Huffing a sigh, he went to examine San's movie collection, only to get caught by his shelf of video game cases. Now there was something he hadn't done in awhile. Running his finger along the spines of roleplaying games, he smiled to himself. An hour, maybe two, and then he would go to bed himself. It wouldn't do to skip sleep and make himself vulnerable to whatever bug his kitten had caught.

~*~*~

Isshi huffed at the hands that pulled his own away from his temples, the cool lips that briefly pressed to his forehead. Had to be Izumi, just as the hands now massaging his shoulders had to be Naoki. And yet he could barely even summon up a wisp of surprise at their tag-teaming of him. 

“You're running a temp,” the drummer said softly. “Headache, too, I take it? What have I told you about taking care of yourself properly, oni-sama?”

“I'm fine,” he mumbled, leaning back into Naoki's hands. A waste of a perfectly good protest, but he couldn't help it. Stressed or tired or sick, he wasn't getting out of this afternoon's work so easily, so why even try?

“And I'm the Queen of England,” Izumi snorted. A small smile curved Isshi's lips in spite of himself at the familiar, even half expected, retort. “Do we need to drag you home with us?”

“San-kun will worry, he's expecting me to take him home tonight.”

“Oh is he? Well then....”

He didn't quite trust the way Izumi trailed into silence, cracking one eye open to see what sort of expression the other man was wearing. Not much help there, but then of course not. And perhaps it didn't really matter. He was safe from being kidnapped by his bandmates, at least. If he came home to find them at the house ahead of him, he would handle it. San might be a little discomfited by it - he could be so adorably shy like that - but he doubted he would have any serious trouble with it. And this time his pet would be in _his_ bed, he would see to it, which ought to reassure Naoki. The bassist really was every bit as much the fussy mother hen that Izumi could be sometimes.

“So how bare are Issama's cupboards,” Naoki asked, almost as if on cue.

“You don't have to put it that way,” he protested with a huff, knowing he was just opening himself up for even more questions. “Just because I've been staying in the city the last two nights....”

“Oh-ho, what's this then?” Naoki asked, squeezing his shoulders.

“San-kun wasn't feeling well, some sort of cold or something. There's nothing subversive going on, Naoran.”

“Of course not, of course not,” the bassist agreed, a little too easily. From the tone of voice, well, he would be quite surprised now if he came home to an empty house that evening. “I'd say something about how he should take better care of you, but if he's sick, then it's understandable. There, headache's better now, yes?”

To Isshi's surprise, the headache was nearly gone now. So it had been just tension after all? That was reassuring. He could be of no use to his kitten if he was sick, too.

“Yes, thank you, Naoran.”

“Anything for our dear oni-sama, ne?” the bassist teased, pecking a quick kiss to Isshi's cheek. “Come on, we don't want to be late. You know how the stylists get if they feel we're rushing them.”

A nod and a smile and he was following his two friends. Just the interview and photoshoot left for the day and then it would be the weekend.

~*~*~

“Tadaima,” he called out to the dim apartment, not terribly surprised when there was no response. San wasn't on the couch where Isshi had left him, but from the looks of things, someone had come by to check on him, providing him with lunch. San's fever had broken some time in the night, so Isshi hadn't felt it necessary to call or message Yu, but it was reassuring to see the young man had come back over again anyway.

Of course such thoughts stopped dead when he walked into the bedroom to find his kitten curled up asleep there with Ray. He tried to tell himself that it was just innocent, but he couldn't quite make himself believe that. Not with Ray involved. Yet as tempted as he was to be completely rude in his method of waking the two, Isshi instead walked over to San's side of the bed, gently shaking his shoulder.

“San-kun....”

The guitarist stirred immediately, rolling over and reaching for him. An ugly knot unclenched at that and he crouched down beside the bed, fingers carding through blue strands. He was letting his fears run away from him. Yes, Ray's interest in San was more than professional, but that didn't mean the bassist was involved in the abuse of his new pet. And just what kind of faith did it show to be thinking the worst so easily?

“San-kun,” he repeated softly. Dark eyes slowly blinked open, a warm smile appearing a moment later, and the knot unclenched even more. He was being foolish, his San-kun wouldn't cheat on him so readily.

“Okaeri, senpai,” his kitten murmured sleepily. “Home again already?”

“It's after six, pet,” Isshi replied, brushing a strand of blue away from his face. San nuzzled into his touch with a soft hum, still more asleep than awake it seemed. “I've come to take you home.”

A tiny frown at that statement and then understanding drew a beautiful smile onto the younger man's face. Followed by an entirely inelegant scramble to get out of bed. His pet wasn't exactly dressed, but neither was he completely naked. Nor were there any new signs of abuse, so why was he still uneasy with the situation? Shaking his head at his own foolishness, Isshi forced himself to go wait in the main living space.

A startled yelp caught his attention a moment later, though it didn't sound like any he had heard from San in the past. And then a groggy Ray was stumbling out of the bedroom, rubbing his face with one hand.

“... shoulda known,” the other man muttered, though what that was supposed to mean, Isshi wasn't so sure. A last rub and the bassist was straightening, calling back towards the bedroom: “I'm leaving now, San-kun. See ya Monday and don't be so late this time!”

Ray offered Isshi a cheeky salute and then he was leaving. Entirely bizarre. But with Ray gone, he saw no need to stay in the lounge, heading back to the bedroom to find his pet frantically packing. Or trying, at any rate.

“San-kitten?”

“Sorry, sorry, honestly, I meant to have this done before you got back, but then Ray-kun came over to check up on me and I sort of ... lost track of time. But I'll be done in a, mm, in a minute.”

Isshi caught the almost-swoon, stepping forward to offer his pet a steadying hand. “You're still sick, kitten. Why don't you let me help you with this?”

He could see the protests forming, silencing them with a brief kiss that was enough to have San swooning for him for real. Perhaps a bit underhanded of him, but at least it got San to sit down on the bed. His kitten had already done most of the work, really, clothes set out on the bed while toiletries had already made it into the bag.

“Is this all?” he asked, gesturing to the clothes. It would be enough for the weekend, but Isshi was already mentally setting aside one of the empty bedrooms for his pet. No reason not to give San his own space in the house, even if he wasn't really expecting the younger man to make much use of it.

“It's ... it's just the weekend, right?” San asked, uncertainty plain in his voice.

“Alas, yes,” Isshi replied softly, smiling in reassurance. “But I thought you might want to leave some things there? You know, for future use.”

The blush that raced into San's cheeks at those few words was adorable. Was it such an odd thing for him to suggest? Well, perhaps it was, given that they had only known each other for a few weeks. At the same time, San was his contracted submissive now, of course he would make room for him in the house.

“Senpai is most generous,” San murmured, sliding off the bed and bowing respectfully. Again Isshi had to reach out to steady his pet, but this time San's stubbornness won, the guitarist tottering around the room to gather a few more items and setting them on the bed before sitting again. Such a stubborn kitten. Isshi brushed a brief kiss to San's forehead and then proceeded to pack everything into a bag that probably shouldn't have fit so much into it.

“Shall we then, kitten?” he asked, offering him a hand up. San was leaning on him a bit heavily, enough so that by the time he had the guitarist in his coat, Isshi had made up his mind. Sliding his own coat back on, he then scooped San up into his arms, amused at the startled meep and the way the younger man clung to him.

“S-senpai!”

“Nope, no protesting, San-kun,” Isshi said, chuckling softly as he carried the younger man down to his car. “You're obviously not well, so you're just going to have to deal with me pampering you until you are. That was my promise to you, to take care of you when you needed me.”

He could tell San was blushing, but at least he was subsiding into something like compliance instead of arguing the point. Perhaps even better, if a little worrying, his pet was already half asleep again by the time he had him in the car. Though he roused again swiftly enough when Isshi put the car in gear.

“Wha-? Senpai?”

“I'm taking you home for the weekend, remember?” he explained. “Your bag's in the back, I have your phone and wallet, and I locked up the apartment before we left.”

“I ... how ... when...?”

“I've had your keys for the last two days, kitten,” he said in a gentle tease. “Cold medicine?”

“Huh? Oh ... yeah,” San said, carefully stretching his long form as best he could in his seat. “Ray-kun had me take something a couple of hours ago, after a late-ish lunch, said the sleep would be good for me. I sort of remember crawling into bed and that's about it.”

“Well, as long as you aren't up all night, I suppose it will be all right,” Isshi said, though he didn't really anticipate that being a problem. If nothing else, he was pretty sure he could think of a way to wear San out again. 

... now why had he put that image into his own head? San was sick, this was no time for him to be fantasizing about bedding his pet. No matter how much a little voice in the back of his head tried to insist that sex was good for curing any of a number of ailments. It was foolish nonsense and he was not going to think about it any longer.

~*~*~

Isshi smiled to himself as he parked his car in his carport, amused and unsurprised to see lights on in his house. A sidelong glance at his passenger revealed that San either hadn't noticed or didn't realize what the lights meant, the younger man silently easing himself out of the car. Grabbing San's bag before his pet could think to try stubbornly doing it himself, he stayed at his side as they made slow progress up to the house. 

“Tadaima,” he called out, smiling a little at the frown San cast his way. Understandable; who would say something like that to just a couple of yippy dogs and two cats?

“Okaeri~” Naoki chirped, appearing almost as if from thin air. “Oof, San-kun looks terrible. If we give you food, are you even going to be able to keep it down?”

“N-naoki-senpai?” San stammered, obviously caught off guard. “I ... i-it's ... it's just a cold, honest.”

“How long do we have before dinner?” Isshi asked as he slipped out of his coat.

“How long do you need?' Naoki countered with a lazy shrug, taking Isshi's coat and hanging it up for him even as he spoke. “We weren't sure how long you were going to be and Izumi-kun thought nabe would be good, considering you'd said before San wasn't feeling well, so fifteen minutes, ish, if I go back and get it started right now?”

“Better make it at least twenty,” Isshi said, lightly taking San's arm to start him towards the stairs.

“Why Issama~” Naoki teased. Isshi rolled his eyes, resisting the urge to smack his friend. So much for his earlier pledge not to think about San and sex together.

“Don't start, Naoran. You know better,” he scolded.

“Bah, spoil all my fun,” the bassist mock pouted. “There'll be tea in the dining room if you end up not needing the whole twenty minutes.”

Isshi nodded before silently guiding San upstairs to the guest room closest to his own bedroom, earning himself an understandably confused look from his pet.

“As long as you are mine, pet, you are welcome to use this room at any time, for any reason, as your own. I'll have a key for the gate made for you this weekend.”

He could see the pieces falling together in San's eyes, a beautiful smile appearing as the younger man nodded before he started unpacking. Isshi lingered, intending to help, but it seemed the sleep additive was wearing off as San was no longer wobbling about the room the way he had been earlier. So Isshi made do with sitting on the bed and handing his pet items each time San returned, savoring each shy smile. After the fourth round, however, San paused in front of him, frowning slightly.

“Um, senpai ... about Naoki-senpai and Izumi-senpai...,” San started, hesitation and worry written in every line of his body. His pet really was such a nervous bundle of worry sometimes. Not that he couldn't or didn't understand why - indeed, it was even a bit endearing - but Isshi did hope that he could, in time, ease some of that fear and worry. It wasn't healthy, always being so wound up about everything.

“They were fussing over me before our interview this afternoon,” he confessed, reaching out to draw an unresisting San into his lap. “The only way to keep them from abducting me for the evening was to let them come over and make dinner. And perhaps also breakfast. Which, if they _do_ stay that long, will at least get Naoran to stop fussing at me about you, my dear kitten.”

San blinked down at him, obviously startled by that comment.

“They stayed over the last time you were here, too,” Isshi explained, brushing a kiss to San's cheek with a small smile. “Naoran noticed you weren't in my bed, so of course he's been worried about you ever since. I told him you were fine, but of course he hasn't really listened. Seeing you here, though, that should help.”

Another blush dusted red across San's cheeks as the younger man averted his gaze. “I'm sorry for causing so much trouble for you,” he mumbled.

“So long as you remember to tell me next time, yes?” he replied softly, gently squeezing the arms around his kitten's waist. “Even if all I can offer is comfort, I would rather that than that you hide from me, okay?”

San nodded, biting his bottom lip for a long moment before silently sliding off Isshi's lap again. Right, the rest of the clothes San had brought with him. In silence, Isshi started to hand his pet another sweater when the younger man stopped short.

“Um, it's not that I don't appreciate... It ... isn't it a bit rude to ignore Izumi-senpai and Naoki-senpai like this?”

“I told you before, kitten,” Isshi murmured, catching one of San's hands and pressing a kiss to the back of it, “they're closer than family at this point. I've spent the whole day with them, they'll understand my wanting to spend some time with you now. Especially since you've not been feeling well.”

The blush on San's cheeks deepened, the younger man stammering something that might have been another apology. Isshi squeezed his hand again before once more gently offering him the sweater. Too cute, too sweet, the way he would blush so easily. And once again that lingering feeling that he was quite thoroughly doomed.

~*~*~

This time, likely in deference to San's cold, they didn't linger over dinner as much as usual, though neither did his two bandmates make any particular moves to excuse themselves. Not that Isshi was surprised; while no one had said anything about it at the time, he was used to his two bandmates staying overnight any time they came to the house like this. On the other hand, he could feel a knot of tension winding itself ever tighter in his dear kitten. More than once, San had started to get up to get something, help with something, in some way assume the role of host - or at least the role of the host's dutiful pet - only to have Naoki beat him to it, and he could feel the way that was threatening to truly upset the younger man. When the bassist started gathering dishes, instead of letting San get himself rebuffed again, Isshi gently tugged him closer, amused by the way red promptly flooded into his pet's cheeks.

“S-senpai,” San stammered, though he made no effort to escape Isshi's grasp. With a half smile, he pressed his lips to his kitten's forehead, noting the way San's blush deepened.

“Temp's gone back up or maybe that's the result of dinner? How do you feel, kitten?” he asked softly.

“Really, I'm fine,” San mumbled and Isshi wondered why he even still tried. Perhaps because of their company? Certainly the guitarist's assertion roused a familiar snort from the drummer sitting across the table from them.

“As bad as each other,” Izumi declared, shaking his head before draining the last of his beer to cover a fond smile. “No wonder Shinpei approved so easily. As if one of you wasn't bad enough already.”

To Isshi's surprise, instead of stiffening with increased discomfort, he could feel his kitten relaxing against him. A faint smile curved his lips when he looked down to be sure it wasn't that San had passed out. Well, this was a bit of a switch, and yet it was a welcome one if it meant his kitten was becoming more comfortable with his bandmates.

“Naoran wants to watch Fellowship tonight, but I told him he needed to take it up with you,” Izumi said as he got up from the table.

“Too long,” Isshi replied, shaking his head slightly. “Besides, that's something best done when you can make a day of it and he knows it. But I'm sure we can find something else to suit.”

“Don't say _that_ to him or you know he'll just invite himself to do exactly that all day tomorrow,” the drummer said with a wink before leaving the room. That didn't sound like such a bad idea - it would be one way of keeping San settled on the couch for most of the day, for one thing - but he would leave that choice up to San.

“Anou, senpai....”

“Shall we relocate to the front lounge then?”

San started to say something, then seemingly shook it off before getting up on slightly wobbly legs. Isshi pushed down the urge to simply sweep the younger man off his feet when he saw the look of determination on his face. Instead he walked beside him, there to offer his support if San needed it but not forcing it upon him. No need to rush, after all, since Izumi and Naoki would need time to finish the dishes from dinner. Though he did have to hide a small smile at the way San huffed when he was finally able to collapse onto the couch.

“So how much of a dirty look would I get if I suggested you pick out a movie for tonight?” Isshi teased softly, brushing a kiss against his forehead. But instead of a glare or a dirty look, San blushed again and averted his eyes. Ah, perhaps he was teasing too much?

“Can we watch _Spirited Away_?” his pet mumbled, still not looking up at him.

“Of course. I'll go get us some tea, you just stay here.”

“But senpai...!” San protested, finally meeting his gaze. Oh was that what it took? He would have to remember that for next time.

“You're still sick, kitten,” he said, pressing another kiss to his forehead. “When you're well again, then you can have all the epic battles with Naoran over who gets to do which chores that you want. Until then, be a good pet and stay put, all right?”

From the sulking, Isshi could tell that he had been right, both about what had been upsetting his kitten, and how much it had been bothering him. Perhaps it would be better to shoo Naoki and Izumi home after breakfast? It was no good if his pet was wasting energy on pouting and getting all worked up over things that didn't have any real meaning instead of healing. On the other hand, well, perhaps he would wait and see how San was feeling in the morning.

~*~*~

As the end credits rolled, Isshi glanced down at his lap, biting back a smile to see his pet had indeed fallen asleep. Hardly a surprise to him, especially with the return of San's fever. This level of trust, though, surely it could only be a good sign. Then again, being wrapped in a warm blanket with a purring cat curled against him had probably had more than a little bit to do with it as well.

“Guess this means it's bedtime?” Naoki murmured, gesturing to indicate the sleeping guitarist. “You're sure it's not going to be a problem, us hanging around all day tomorrow?”

“You're welcome to do as you like, Naoran,” Isshi said, carefully nudging Tsuya awake. “But yes, San-kun and I are going to bed now. As for tomorrow ... we'll see how he is at breakfast, but it should be fine. Just some ruffled feathers, you know how it is, ne?”

Naoki nodded, already picking up empty mugs and popcorn bowls, and not for the first time Isshi wondered if his friend was even aware of what he was doing or if he was just moving on autopilot, cleaning the house because that had been his responsibility for so long that it had become not unlike second nature. The white cat that had been using San as a bed gave Isshi a dirty look for daring to disturb her before hopping down off the couch with a flirt of her tail. Without her weighing down the blanket, it was easier to tuck it around San's long form before lifting him up into his arms. He could feel Naoki watching them and hoped this would soothe whatever worries linger in his friend's mind, at least for a little while.

San didn't so much as rouse for a mumble as Isshi settled the younger man in his bed. He brushed a kiss to his forehead again, but while his temperature was still elevated, it wasn't as bad as it had been. A shame that this weekend was likely to be spent nursing a sick San - something he knew neither of them had wanted for these few days off together - but there were certainly worse ways to spend a weekend.

And he couldn't deny, as much as he might have wanted to do just that, the warm flutter that spread through his chest at the way his sleeping kitten snuggled closer to him the moment he laid down beside him. Maybe Kuina was right about them? Still far too soon to tell. For the moment, however, he would take whatever he could get.

~*~*~

_Isshi startled awake, unsettled to find himself handcuffed, naked, to his own bed. Lips and teeth and tongue teased a wet trail down his chest. Amonn, of course, his pet settling across his knees. As naught as his Amonn-pet could be, however, he was entirely too much of a tactile person to have cuffed him to the bed like this if he were alone._

_Then again, Amonn was rarely ever anywhere alone._

_“Sacchi....”_

_“Isshi-kun has been quite badly behaved of late,” Sato's voice crooned, just out of reach. “All those lecherous thoughts. Perhaps Isshi-kun has forgotten to whom he belongs?”_

_Wet heat engulfed his length at the same time that Sato dragged nails down his chest. He hissed at the dual assault, tugging uselessly at his bonds. What was Sato talking about now?_

_“I've seen the way you look at him. How quickly you think to replace us....”_

_“Sacchi....”_

_Isshi blinked, startled again at the stinging in his cheek. This wasn't right, this wasn't how things went...._

~*~*~

Isshi jerked himself awake, heart pounding in his chest. San was already awake, rubbing his back, and he couldn't help wondering what he had said in his sleep this time.

“Just a dream, senpai,” San murmured, snuggling up to him and pressing a kiss to the back of his neck. Isshi folded his own arm over the top of the one San had curled about him and forced himself to take a deep breath. Just a dream. Those two were no longer in his life, gone away never to return. A truth that didn't actually make him feel any better about the dream, though there was little enough he could do about that. Sleep. He needed more sleep if he was going to take care of his pet properly. And keep from worrying him even more, to say nothing of Naoki and Izumi. With any luck, the dream wouldn't be waiting for him when he fell back to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've ever heard me bitching about Schroedinger's BJ? This chapter is where that came from. :p


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally! So with this, we get to the end of what had previously been released of this story (there have been edits since this first appeared on LJ, of course), which should help explain a couple things in Gensou, especially 30 Days and Three Times..., a little.
> 
> While neither San nor Jui get terribly detailed in their discussion of it, San's abuse is discussed twice in the latter half of this chapter. I would feel bad for the way this story paints Jin, but I don't. It is, after all, just fiction. I just hope sick!San's bogged down thoughts aren't making this chapter too slow a read (I've honestly been working on this for so long now I've lost any perspective on it myself, sorry).
> 
> (subtle reminder this chapter is set in winter of 2009)

In his mind, San huffed, got up, and, still wrapped up in the blanket, and marched up the stairs in a well-justified snit, completely and totally done with all of their shit. Especially Naoki, the jerkiest of them all. He was surrounded by jerks and dammit, he was sick of it!

In reality, however, San rolled over to press his face into Isshi's stomach because he knew full well he would never make it _to_ the stairs, let alone up them, without collapsing into a pitiful heap. He hated being sick at any time, but he especially hated being this sick around people he was still just getting to know. This was not the sort of impression he wanted to be making on his senpai, to say nothing of being very much _not_ how he had wanted to be spending precious time off work. Especially while in Isshi's house. He was Isshi's by contract now, dammit, _he_ should have been the one making tea, fixing lunch, and otherwise tending to his master's needs. Not Naoki, with his patient smile and his sweetly-worded offers and his stupid perfect manners. Stupid perfect senpai, how was he supposed to stay mad at him when he was just so nice and perfect? It was completely unfair.

And then there was stupidly, perfectly understanding Isshi, with his blankets and his soft words of comfort and the easy way he let himself be used as a pillow. Completely and utterly unfair. Of course understanding was preferable to, say, Jin's tendency to get offended and angry, as if San had gotten sick just to piss him off or something, but that wasn't the point. And it was hard to stay appropriately cranky when Isshi was petting his hair like that, but that wasn't the point, either. The point was that his life was horribly unfair and he wanted it to stop being so mean to him, dammit.

“I can have something else put in if you need a break from the elves and swords,” Isshi murmured, almost chuckling as he spoke. Fate was laughing at San, he was certain of it, it was the only possible explanation. Heaving a heavy sigh, he forced himself to roll back onto his back.

“It's not that,” he mumbled in response, shaking his head slightly before groaning at the mistake of moving his head so much. Stupid sinuses, why did they have to be giving him such trouble?

“More tea then? Although I think Naoran is using the intermission to make lunch.”

San huffed again in spite of his better intentions. He could have told Isshi to send his two bandmates home that morning, he had been given that option, if not quite in so many words, and he had chosen to let them stay. There was no point in sulking about it now. If only it were that easy to stop being annoyed by the way things had turned out. And the too natural way Naoki had taken up the role of host's pet, a role that was supposed to be his.

“I know this wasn't what you wanted for this weekend, pet,” Isshi murmured, taking advantage of the fact that the other two weren't in the room at the moment, he supposed. “But you needn't sulk and fuss so, my silly kitten. There will be plenty of other weekends after this one.”

San started to protest, only to find himself curling onto his side with a coughing fit that didn't want to stop. And when it finally did, he felt limp and out of breath ... and very grateful for the soothing murmur of words and the gentle fingers stroking through his hair. At least he wasn't having to deal with being this sick all by himself. Not much comfort to be had in that fact, however.

“Here, sit him up a bit, I've got medicine for him. That may or may not lead to more sleeping and is definitely best while still hot.”

San wrinkled his nose, knowing exactly what sort of medicine that meant, but his senpai was probably right to give it to him. He could put up with the foul taste and the rumpling of his blanket cocoon if it meant getting better faster, though he was no longer convinced that it would.

“I know, it's horrible stuff, but it really does help. And we should have lunch done in a couple more minutes, so you'll have something to replace the taste soon. Are we allowed to serve it in here, oh great and mighty Issama?” the bassist asked, rocking back on his heels. And again with that stupid, irritatingly impossible to stay mad at grin on his face. San hated his life right now, he really, truly did.

“Well, I suppose,” Isshi drawled, “as long as kitten is so sick still, it wouldn't hurt anything to be a little less formal. But don't think I'm making a habit of this!” 

“Ah, such a generous and thoughtful host~” Naoki trilled, chuckling even as he got up to return to the kitchen. And yet again San felt himself wanting to get properly mad at his senpai, and yet unable to do so. Damn the man anyway for being so ... so ... so _nice_.

“Next time, kitten,” Isshi murmured in a low chuckle, gently nudging him to drink his medicine. “You can fight him over chores next time, when you're properly well again.”

“I hope you know I'm holding you to that now,” he mumbled, nose wrinkling again as he drank the last of his medicine. “So if we end up cat fighting, it'll be your own fault.”

“I think I can handle being to blame for that,” the other man murmured. San shifted against him and sighed. The universe really was being completely rude to him, surrounding him with such kind and caring people, such a sharp contrast to the way things had been before meeting Isshi. He told himself that the contract meant this wasn't something he was going to lose so easily, but the inner voice of doubt still wasn't convinced. Another sigh as he tried to silence that voice, to focus instead on the arrival of lunch. Tomorrow's troubles would arrive when they would, there was no sense worrying about them in advance.

~*~*~

In truth, San was a little surprised to see Naoki and Izumi actually leaving after dinner. From the way the bassist had been acting all day, he had been more than half expecting at least Naoki to stay until Monday morning, fussing over him the whole time he remained so sick. Given that he wasn't really feeling any better than he had all day, San couldn't help but wonder if Isshi hadn't snuck off and said something to the pair during one of his naps.

And that was another thing that was bothering him, that he was still feeling sick as a dog despite three days of medicine and sleep. Granted, he hadn't gotten so much as a text message from Jin since ordering the stubborn ass to go back home to bed, so there was no telling how long that one had stayed sick himself. Jin had a bad habit of only texting him when he wanted something, like free sex, so silence from that quarter really could mean anything. Or nothing. Still, to San's mind at least, it didn't feel right that he should still be this sick after three whole days of resting and taking his medicine like a good pet.

“Such a deep frown. I thought my kitten was wanting me all to himself?”

“Huh? Oh! Oh, I do, I do, it's not that,” San mumbled, shifting to curl into the corner of the couch. “Just worried that I'm not getting better faster....”

“... of all the things to be worrying about,” Isshi said with a soft chuckle, settling beside him and tucking an arm around his shoulders, coaxing him closer. As if San really needed the coaxing. “Your fever's gone down again and you haven't coughed once in, hmm, probably a whole ten minutes now.”

San halfheartedly swatted the older man, though he made no effort to pull away from him. With his napping through most of _The Return of the King_ , he wasn't sure how he was going to get to sleep at anything like a reasonable hour tonight. Well, he could think of one or two things that could help with that, but San was hesitant to suggest anything more intimate than the cuddling they were currently doing. Which was probably more of him being beyond ridiculous, but he couldn't seem to help it. Had intimacy always been this hard for him or was this because his relationship with Isshi was still so new? Or was there something more going on in his head, something else that was holding him back, keeping San from making the first move? He really couldn't seem to sort it out.

“I keep losing you,” Isshi said softly, startling San out of his own thoughts again. He blushed at being caught so easily, hoping the other man didn't ask him to share what was on his mind this time. Mostly because he wasn't sure how to put any of it into words.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, wondering if he should be suggesting another movie for them to watch. Maybe then he wouldn't zone out so easily?

“You don't have to apologize, pet. If you want to call it a night, I have more than enough work I can use to fill my evening.”

“N-no,” he said, shaking his head before resting it on the older man's shoulder again. “I don't want to go to bed yet. Feel like all I've done since you came and got me is rest or sleep.”

“Rest is good for the sick, you know.”

San wanted to protest, but before he could he was caught up in another coughing fit, one that threatened to trigger a full on panic attack before it finally finished with him. Those really needed to quit happening. Ceding his control willingly was one thing, having it stolen from him by his own body was something else entirely, something he did not enjoy at all.

“Deep breaths, pet, that's it,” Isshi murmured as he rubbed a hand up and down San's arm. He felt so weak and helpless, curled up on his side with his head once more in Isshi's lap. At least he wasn't having to deal with this all alone, but knowing that wasn't really making him feel any less guilty for it. He was being completely selfish, keeping Isshi from his work by monopolizing his time and so what if it was the weekend? He knew Isshi did more than just his music with Kagrra, even if he wasn't sure what all else that more was. Not that the details mattered, since it didn't change that he was being selfish, keeping the man from his obligations. What a thoughtless, selfish whore of a pet he was. Jin was right, even if he didn't know it yet. He couldn't even manage to be a proper whore, unable to seduce his master because he was too busy being sick. This delusion of his that he could have a relationship with someone like Isshi was just that, a delusion. It was doomed to utter failure, there was no way things could work when he was like this.

“Stop it,” Isshi said suddenly, tugging a bit of his hair.

“Huh?”

“Whatever it is you're thinking that's put that look on your face, stop.”

“Huh?” Well now he felt even stupider, even more useless, but he really didn't know what Isshi meant? Which thoughts? And what look?

“I don't know what all garbage that ... _person_ put into your head, pet,” Isshi murmured, “but when we made that contract, I promised to take care of you. That includes when you're sick and unable to care for yourself, so stop thinking you're being some dreadful burden, some failure.”

“I ... I don't, I just....”

But he couldn't seem to muster a proper argument to those words. It was a bit unnerving, how easily Isshi had been able to see into his mind, had sussed out what was bothering him, all without him having said a single word of it aloud. And not for the first time. That Isshi could read him so easily already ... he really wasn't sure what to make of that.

“You'll have plenty of chances to return the favor, my pet,” the other man said softly, stroking fingers through his hair again. “Of that I have no doubt.”

Unable to argue the point, San instead swallowed a sigh and nuzzled into Isshi's lap some more. The television clicked on as if that were the end of things, and perhaps it was. For now.

~*~*~

Isshi stayed with his kitten, carding fingers through his hair and flipping through channels in hopes of finding something relaxing. He knew better than to think the situation was truly resolved between them, he could feel the doubts in his young pet and they ran far deeper than any mere words could repair so quickly. The only real cure, he suspected, would be the one that came through time, from his steadfast refusal to just give up on the younger man. Time and effort and he was willing to give generously of both for the sake of this slender wisp of a guitarist who had made off with his heart, seemingly without even realizing what he had done. Ah, but then of course San wasn't aware of it, the blue-haired man's doubts were too strong for him to see just how much he had captured Isshi's demon heart.

The television wasn't really capturing his interest, though he managed to find a tolerable series of programs until he felt San's energy shift as the younger man finally drifted into proper sleep once more. Isshi waited awhile longer to be sure he wasn't going to wake so easily, then carried him up to bed. A part of him wanted to stay with his pet, to curl up in bed with him and call it a night. But having Naoki and Izumi in the house all day had meant that he hadn't gotten any work done, too occupied placating his friends.

And yet the way San whimpered without waking when he got up from the bed threatened to break his heart. To see yet further evidence that someone so sweet and kind had been so deeply abused....

“One hour, my pet,” he murmured to the sleeping guitarist, running fingers along his side. “One hour and I'll return to you, I promise.”

Whether some part of San heard him or not, he settled back into a deeper sleep without any further protests. Isshi had a few things that urgently needed his attention, a couple other matters he wanted to put to rest, if only for the moment, and then he would return to San's side for the rest of the night. He knew it would take time, but he would make right what had gone so wrong.

~*~*~

Isshi was still lingering in bed the next morning when he heard a car crunching the gravel in front of his house. A frown and then he pressed a kiss to San's forehead before carefully extracting himself from the other man's hold on him. Tossing on jeans and a sweatshirt, he sighed as he wasn't quick enough to stop the dogs from announcing his guest. Poor San; though it was already well into the morning, nearly noon even, woken by barking dogs hadn't been what Isshi had wanted for him.

“All right you two,” he scolded as he came down the stairs, still wondering who could possibly be coming to see him without calling first. And more than a little surprised to find his guest crouched in his genkan, trying to give both dogs ear rubs at the same time.

“You know,” he drawled, shaking his head a little, “most guests actually knock on the door first.”

“You never could remember to lock your door at night,” Jui said, giving each dog a final scratch before standing, wiping hands on his jeans and then snagging his bag. “I know, I know, I should have called first,” the other singer said, even as he fished out a bottle of wine and handed it to him. “Call this my apology for being so thoughtless?”

Isshi accepted the bottle with a soft snort, glancing over the label. A good winery and a good year for the shiraz he was now holding. Two things that, by themselves, were rather meaningless, to be sure - Jui knew his wineries and his wines, he wouldn't give anything less than an excellent gift. But the bottle still suggested something was weighing on the other man's mind.

“It's a bit early in the day for something like this,” he said, gesturing with the bottle.

“Aa, I know, and I thought about waiting a couple more hours, but I was pretty sure if I did that, I'd talk myself out of coming here at all.”

“Shall I start water for tea then, Issama?”

Startled, Isshi did a quick double-take, even more surprised to find his pet had opted to borrow one of his mens kimono, a dark blue with a subtle wave and koi fish pattern. That was right, one of the little projects Naoki had given himself yesterday to keep busy (never mind that running a marathon of _The Lord of the Rings_ had been his own idea) had been an airing of all of Isshi's kimono, though he hadn't realized his pet had been aware enough to have heard Naoki's announcement of his intentions.

“... ah, I really should have called first, I'm intruding....”

“You may as well stay now, senpai,” San murmured, flashing a small smile even as he reached out to liberate the wine bottle from Isshi's hands. “You know Issama isn't going to let you leave so easily.”

Isshi huffed a mock protest, though they all knew the blue-haired man was right. Jui might not have said it in so many words, but something was bothering his friend. Something for which he was seeking his help. Like Isshi could let him walk away so easily now.

“I ... didn't realize you were dating someone again. I really am sorry for intruding like this,” Jui said as he let himself be walked into the living room.

“Maa, it's fine, Jui-kun, and anyway, it's still a relatively new development,” he confessed, sitting on the couch with his guest. “We've been keeping it quiet, for obvious reasons.”

“What, you don't think the press, your fans, your manager and staff would react well to finding out you've been seeing someone, a younger _man_ no less?” Jui teased, laughing.

“No, and neither would yours,” he countered, smirking.

“Yes, well, they don't have to worry about anything like that coming out about me anymore,” Jui huffed, the amusement going out of him like air from a balloon. “Confirmed bachelorhood, here I come.”

“You _do_ know that was a euphemism for being gay, yes?” Isshi teased gently.

“All right, fine, oath of celibacy, here I come, that better?” the younger singer mock grumped. “I'm through with dating, I quit, this hot bod is off the market forever.”

“You say that, but we both know you don't mean it.”

“No, I think ... I think maybe this time I really do,” Jui said quietly, the last traces of humor leaking out of him as he shook his head again.

“What happened?” Isshi asked, frowning at his friend. This wouldn't be the first time the blond had run into relationship trouble, not by a long shot. From what Isshi could remember, his poor friend had worse dating luck than pretty much anyone else he knew, with relationship lengths all too often better counted in weeks rather than months. Which truly was unfortunate, since he knew the man to be sweet, gentle, and caring. Maybe a little too caring sometimes.

“I'm tired, Icchama,” the blond sighed after a long moment, rubbing his face with a hand. “I'm just tired of all the games. The fake smiles, the false words. Of being thought of as easy because of my public image. Of being used. I'm tired of being seen as something other than a real person just because of my chosen profession. I'm just tired.”

Isshi hummed softly, though he didn't yet know what Jui wanted from him. Or if this was even what had prompted the visit or if it was just something that had come bubbling up because of their teasing of each other.

“You wouldn't think asking your significant other to respect you as a real human being would be such a weird thing to want, but if my dating history is any indication, apparently it is,” Jui said with a heavy sigh.

“It shouldn't be, but sometimes it is,” Isshi agreed softly.

“I never could decide which was worse, the ones who just disappear into the night or the ones who start in with the passive-aggressive, 'you don't love me anymore, do you?' shit. At least the ones who just vanish don't pull that, but ... not sure the silence is really any less damaging. Thank you, San-kun.”

Whatever had happened with Jui's most recent boyfriend had to have been serious indeed if it had dragged _her_ up again; so far as Isshi knew, only one person had ever dumped Jui without so much as saying a single parting word, just packing up in the middle of the night and disappearing back into the Tokyo underground scene. Someone could have pursued her, he supposed, forced an explanation, but.... Leaving the way she had, Isshi had deemed her unworthy of the effort and Jui hadn't wanted to pursue it for reasons of his own.

Isshi murmured his thanks, briefly squeezing San's hand before the other slipped from the room again. At least his pet was looking better, more healthy. But then he had been expecting that bringing San to his home would have a positive impact on his health, not the least of which because they would be that much further away from all the things that had been stressing him out the most.

“So ... you and San-kun, huh?” Jui said, sipping his tea. “I'll bet that's gone over like a lead balloon with Jin-kun....”

“Jin-kun?” he echoed. Right, vidoll had previously been signed to UnderCode as well; Jui no doubt knew his new pet better than he did at the moment. Might not be such a bad idea to take advantage of that, since Jui was clearly wanting another topic of discussion anyway.

“Jin-kun is Nega's vocalist. Nothing official's ever been said, of course, but the word around the office water cooler, so to speak, was that the two of them had been dating more or less since Jin invited him into the band back in Osaka. Rametan's had some ... less than pleasant things to say, but....” Jui trailed off with a slight shrug. As if that was all the more he had to say about it.

“You can't just say that and then not expect me to prod you for more, I hope you realize,” Isshi said with something not unlike a sigh.

“I just ... don't want you thinking what I'm saying here is anything more than rumor, Icchama,” his friend said with a sigh, setting off alarm bells of all sorts. He wasn't going to like this, but he probably needed to hear it anyway.

“San-kun's a sweet kid, but Rametan's worried he's a bit too much of a doormat. Not when it comes to band business, but I guess there's been signs of physical abuse. It's not much of a stretch to think Jin-kun's behind it. That one's got a temper like a wet badger, even on his good days, and he's always been possessive of San in a way that he isn't with anyone else in that band. They've never missed a deadline or a recording session or a live, so whatever it is he does, he's careful to keep it from interfering with work, but....”

“But he's an opportunist and San-kun's gotten too good at knowing the tricks to hiding the abuse,” Isshi suggested when Jui trailed into silence again. The nod was expected, though it still added fuel to the fire of choler burning within him.

“So not just a rumor?”

“I was pretty sure one of his bandmates had assaulted him this past Monday, but I couldn't say for sure which and he wouldn't tell me. He didn't even want to tell me it had happened at all, but he got sick before the bruises had faded. Shin-kun had said there was something funny about his aura, but I'd dismissed it at the time, thinking it was just the emotional upset he'd had on display at the time. Until I found the bruising.”

“Either Jin-kun or Ray-kun, maybe even both. Pretty sure he's been sleeping with both of them,” Jui said, sipping his tea again. “I've tried offering my help in the past, subtly, you know, but you know how it is with abuse victims. They get to thinking it's their own fault, that if they just do this or that, they can control it, they don't need help, and, well....”

Isshi sighed heavily, not liking what he was hearing. And more than a little worried that San was sitting in the hall, listening to every word, and feeling even more down on himself.

“I've already warned Ray-kun to keep his hands to himself,” he murmured. “I suppose we'll see what happens, but if I find bruises on him again, I'll be having a ... talk with this Jin-kun.”

“Talk, right,” Jui said with a low snort. “Not going to work. You need an ego to make a go of it in this business, no doubt of that, but he's more arrogant that most. I don't know, something about him makes it hard for me to be civil when we're in the same room together. You know me, I manage because I know I have to at least pretend, but there are times when the fire inside just wants to burn him to ash.”

“San-kun wants to handle this himself and, for now, I am willing to let him,” Isshi said with a small shake of his head. “But if he turns up with bruises on his throat again....”

“I'll hold your weave while you kick his ass?” Jui offered, chuckling. Isshi rolled his eyes, though he smiled a bit as well. He appreciated the sentiment, at any rate. And he would have another talk with his kitten after Jui left, make sure that he understood that Isshi wanted to know what happened to him, no matter what it was. They wouldn't have to go to the police, though an inner voice was itching to have Jin charged with assault; he knew San would never support such an action, not with the way it would bring such an ignominious end to the careers of the entire band if it wasn't handled exactly right. But that didn't mean Isshi couldn't find justice some other way. If it came to that.

~*~*~

San hadn't meant to linger or eavesdrop on his senpai, but then he had heard them start talking about him and, well.... Worse, talking about him and Jin and each word made him feel even worse. Did the whole company think of him as the band whore of Nega? Not that Jui had phrased it that way, but the implication was there if one read between the lines. He had thought himself so careful, thought he had kept the signs hidden. And yet to hear Jui talk about it so casually made him worry all over again. Granted, his senpai had prefaced his comments with a warning that what he was saying amounted to little more than hearsay, rumor. But rumor that hit a little too close to the mark for San's liking. And if Jui and Rame had pieced together this much, who else had done the same?

Careful not to make a sound, San retreated to the kitchen, silent tears trickling down his cheeks. It was useless crying, yet he couldn't stop himself. All that effort and it seemed he was as transparent as glass. What was he supposed to do now?

_There's no sense in feeling sorry for yourself_ , he mentally chided himself, sniffling and wiping at his cheeks. _What's done is done. You knew Issama was going to find out about Jin-kun and Ray-kun eventually._

True enough, but this wasn't how he had wanted his senpai finding out about the dirtier secrets in his past. Of course there was nothing he could do about it now, scolding himself to stop acting like such a child. He had wasted an entire morning asleep in bed and he would have to go back to work in the morning, seeing as he was feeling almost completely healthy again now. With no Naoki around to spoil things, it fell to him at last to do his proper job of serving Isshi like a good pet, to prove his worth and value. He would just take a quick survey of Isshi's kitchen, make a list of what he needed, and then slip off to the closest market or combini while Isshi was entertaining his guest. Simple as that.

And as for the business with Jin, well.... San was mostly sure Isshi would give him the time and space to try dealing with it himself first. Hopefully Jin would cooperate for a change, though San wouldn't hold his breath.

~*~*~

Isshi waited for the sound of Jui's car driving away to fade into the background before catching up with his pet again. San was fussing in the kitchen, ostensibly waiting for the kettle he had on the stove, but Isshi couldn't help wondering if that wasn't just an excuse to keep himself seemingly busy. Silently, Isshi walked up behind the younger man, biting back a sigh at the way San flinched when he lightly rested hands on his shoulders.

“Issama ... you startled me,” the younger man mumbled in a cross between accusation and explanation.

“Who else would it be, pet?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow at him.

“I ... I don't know, I guess no one else, just ... I didn't hear you come back.”

Isshi didn't care to argue, sliding hands down San's sides to rest on his hips. A beat and then San was turning around to face him properly, though he kept his gaze averted to the floor. Tsking to himself, Isshi cupped San's cheek as he pressed a soft kiss to his lips. For a beat, San was seemingly too startled to even think of a response. A soft sigh and then the younger man almost melted into his touch. Better, much better. But as much as Isshi wanted to linger, to take things even further, he instead forced himself to step back half a pace.

“You were eavesdropping earlier,” he murmured, not quite an accusation.

“I'm sorry, Issama,” San mumbled, ducking his head in response. Was it shyness or shame?

“Why don't you tell me your versions of things?” he suggested softly, brushing fingertips against one cheek. San leaned into his touch a moment, then blushed.

“I ... with tea or without?”

“Whichever makes you more comfortable?”

Nodding a little, San moved to fetch out a tea tin. 

“It should be ready in just a couple of minutes. Where would Issama like to take his tea?”

“Lounge, I think,” he said, fighting back the urge to frown when San flinched again at his touch. He had already suspected San had been - still was? - regularly abused by someone even before Jui had suggested Jin as the possible culprit, of course. Little quirks in San's behavior that, by themselves, might not have been terribly notable, but combined together suggested something more. Of course he had also been hoping that he had been wrong, that he had been building a castle on sand. Between Jui's suspicions, however, and San's reactions, he was beginning to think otherwise.

Pulling out a blanket, het settled on the couch to wait for his pet and their tea. He was going to have to fight the inner demon to keep calm through whatever confessions were about to be made, so perhaps it was just as well he was going to have a few minutes to prepare himself. This was not going to be easy for San, he reminded himself; if such a thing were easily confessed, the younger man would have told him everything before now. And San's need for his strength, his reassurance, would always outweigh his own urges for retribution. Not that beating Jin to a pulp would ever be a true option, more was the pity.

San remained silent as he brought their tea into the lounge, pouring for them both before moving to join Isshi on the couch. And yet the young guitarist was careful to sit just that little bit apart. Strange, but if that was what San needed to do to get through this, Isshi wouldn't push, not yet anyway.

“Whatever anyone says, I'm not a whore,” San mumbled, almost too quiet for Isshi to hear. That seemed an odd opening statement and he waited to see if anything else would be forthcoming. Like an explanation.

“Jin likes to make like he _lets_ me be band leader, like it was some magnanimous bequeathment on his part or something,” San muttered, a little louder this time, gripping his mug of tea as if hanging on for dear life. “Truth is, he and Ray are two of a kind. They like having fun, making music and doing gigs, but when it comes down to the hard work, they're like children. We'd still be doing gigs in third rate clubs in Osaka if I hadn't taken over the leadership. And most days it's still a bit like herding cats.”

San paused to sip his tea. Still not what Isshi had been expecting, but he was sure there was a point, he just had to let San get there at his own pace. So he kept quiet, simply listening and offering his kitten the supportive space to find the words he needed in his own time.

“I was young and stupid and unattached and Jin took advantage of that. At first he was ... quite charming, really, both of them were. And I was flattered by the attention. It was just words at first, of course, flirtations to draw me into the band. Only once I started saying yes to Jin, I couldn't seem to stop. Whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted, and I didn't really think there was anything _wrong_ with it, per se. He was in control of himself, he never crossed the line, never did anything that could put the band at risk, no matter how kinky things got between us.”

San stopped again, taking a deeper breath and another sip of tea. It was almost too much for Isshi to keep his hands to himself, but he wasn't sure how his pet would react to being physically comforted in the moment. And, too, he didn't want to risk disrupting the story for fear of not getting a second chance to hear it all laid out like this, because he knew he needed to hear it, all of it, now that San was finally willing to tell him.

“Then one night, Jin dragged me out drinking and got completely trashed, worse than usual, and I ... I thought, for the sake of protecting the band's image, for the sake of keeping things discreet, it would be better to call Ray instead of a cab. Only I was wrong, so very, very wrong. That night ... that's when he stopped being charming. That's when he turned into a sadistic ass and Ray became his partner in ... in using me. And I put up with it because I was too stupid, too scared to make them stop. Even when he threw me out of his apartment in the middle of the night with nothing but the clothes on my back and my guitar, I was too stupid to make him stop. It was always about him, about what he wanted. It still is. And I....”

San suddenly set aside his teacup, then scooted into Isshi's lap, clinging to him as he wept. Isshi set down his own cup, curling arms around his kitten and holding him close, stroking his hair and humming soft nothings of reassurance. It was enough. He would put an end to this, one way or another. He would not tolerate anyone treating San in such a manner, not ever again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So okay, I know I said before that, after _Masun_ ended, I'd be focusing on finishing this. And in my defense, I've drafted up to almost the end of chapter 9, but editing those drafted chapters into shape is lagging behind (because these chapters tend towards the long). Between that and deadlines, Gensou #70 and #71 are next up on the posting queue, then chapter 6 and then... probably more interrupts because deadlines. But I am working on this, I promise!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Jin continues to be an antagonistic asshat, San has a complete meltdown, and other things.

San hadn't wanted to leave Isshi's bed, but he had too many responsibilities and not enough time to be indulging in such a selfish thing. At least he was able to have breakfast with the other man and enjoy a drive into the city instead of dealing with the trains.

“Call me tonight, pet,” Isshi said, leaning over to brush a quick kiss to his cheek. San blushed in spite of himself and nodded, taking another moment before getting out of Isshi's car. Completely ridiculous, how eager he was already to have Isshi take him home every night. That was just madness, no matter how good it had felt to have Isshi hold him, comfort him, even after everything he had told him. It didn't make sense to him, but he wasn't stupid enough to question too hard why Isshi was still willing to put up with him. Not when being with the other man felt so right.

“You know, if I didn't know better, I'd think that Isshi-senpai of yours was magic,” Yu teased when San walked into their practice room. No surprise that Jin and Ray weren't there yet, though they still had some time before he would consider them actually late.

“Eh? What are you talking about?”

“As sick as you were the other night? And now you walk in here a couple days later practically glowing? Must be some kind of magic,” the drummer teased with a wink.

“I guess if you want to call being out of the central city magic,” San said, shrugging. It wasn't just that, he was sure being with Isshi had helped just by having someone there who genuinely cared for him. Even if he wasn't sure how Isshi could have such feelings for him so easily.

“Mm-hmm, right, sure, okay, you keep telling yourself that.”

“Ahh, did our dear little San-kun spend another weekend with that _danna_ of his? You're making a habit of this~” Ray teased and San felt himself stiffen at how easily the bassist casually helped himself to San's body, arms slung low around San's hips as he stepped in closer. As if nothing had changed.

“Let go,” he muttered under his breath, twitching and glancing over to notice Jin lighting up his first cigarette of the day, seemingly ignoring them.

“Relax, sweet cheeks, it's just me,” Ray cooed into his ear. San bit back a yelp when Ray slid a hand even lower to grab his crotch, but he didn't stop himself from slapping at the man's arms.

“I said let go, you asshole!”

“Mou, already being nasty to me again? And you still haven't managed to _apologize_ for the last time yet, either,” the bassist murmured. San forced himself free of the loose arms around him, turning to glower at the other man again. He knew what Ray wanted, of course, but he was a little surprised the bastard would have the nerve to ask him for a blowjob so casually. And right in front of Yu.

“You're out of your mind if you think I'm doing that,” he hissed. “We've got lives coming up, how about you focus on that instead of your dick for a change?”

Ray snorted, slouching his was over to his bass as if nothing had happened. That had been entirely too easy and San was certain the bassist would make another try at him later, probably at lunch. But he wasn't going to just roll over and take it, he wasn't going to just give in to them anymore. Isshi expected more from him. And after everything, well, he expected more from himself, now, too.

By the end of the day's rehearsal, San felt like he was wound tighter than the proverbial Swiss watch from the tension of waiting for something else to happen. Something more than the usual verbal jibes that had been all that had surfaced thus far. He felt his breath catch in his chest when Yu suddenly hurried out of the room with his phone pressed to his ear. That couldn't possible be a good sign.

“We should go out for dinner together,” Ray suggested, and on the surface it might have sounded completely reasonable. Except for the part where he had waited for Yu to be out of the room before making the suggestion.

“I can't, I've already got other plans tonight,” San said, trying to hurry through packing so he could make his own escape. He and Isshi hadn't actually made plans, other than the promised phone call, but his bandmates didn't need to know that.

“You always were a shit liar,” Jin drawled, one hand clamping down on San's wrist. “You've been a very naughty little slut lately, haven't you? Avoiding me and Ray-kun like you have ... someone might get the idea you don't like us anymore.”

“I'm not your property, Jin-kun. Let go,” he grumbled through gritted teeth, tugging his arm a bit. Had to be strong, for Isshi if not for himself.

“What's that, _cunt_? What, you think because you have your own apartment now, that means I don't still own you? I will _always_ own your sorry ass, you hear me?” Jin snarled, fisting a hand in San's hair and twisting it painfully. San bit back a yelp, jerking his wrist free this time. A mistake, he realized too late, as Jin yanked him down to his knees by his hair, tears springing to the corners of San's eyes at the sharp, sudden pain.

“What a sorry excuse for a sub you are. I suppose you think just because you've found some rich sucker to smile and give you things, things have changed between us. You think I don't remember our little agreement? Better make that dinner take-out, Ray-kun. Looks like we've got some work ahead of us still tonight, reminding this bitch of his proper place.”

The knock on the door was just enough distraction for San to scoot free, hurriedly blinking away tears. He could hear the door swinging open a beat later, but he ignored it, crawling over to his bag instead. Hopefully it was just someone on staff, someone who would dutifully forget anything they had just seen.

“Yu-kun says you're done for the day.”

San could have sworn his heart stopped and dropped into his stomach. Isshi. How could it be Isshi? Why? He forced himself to swallow, but he couldn't stop the tremor that threatened to give him away when he glanced over his shoulder. The vocalist was lingering by the door, a faint frown shading his features. He could just imagine the disgruntled looks likely to be on Jin's and Ray's faces at having their plans disrupted so easily. San didn't know why Isshi was at their studio again or what had made him change his mind about collecting him tonight, and in that moment he _really_ didn't care. He didn't even care that this rescue meant now both Jin and Ray would know exactly who his mystery _danna_ was, it was an escape from what Jin had been intending and that was all that mattered.

“Yes,” he said, inwardly grimacing at the half strangled tone of his voice, “just finished.”

Trying his hardest to ignore the glares from his bandmates, he shrugged into his winter coat and grabbed the rest of his things. He could feel himself holding his breath as he walked away from Jin and Ray, but the two men remained silent. That couldn't possibly be a good sign, but he would deal with it later.

“So ... what was that back there?” Isshi murmured, catching him by the elbow. They had only made it as far as the main floor, not even out of the building yet. It wasn't enough to be safe and San shook his head. And felt his breath catch, his heart stop again, when Isshi abruptly pulled him close and kissed him. The world could have ended in that moment and maybe it did, because San couldn't even think. It didn't last, of course, but for a moment when their lips parted, he wasn't even sure of his own name.

“San-kun? Senpai?”

“It's all right, Yu-san, he just wasn't expecting to see me again so soon. And apparently I interrupted something,” Isshi said, brushing loose strands of blue away from San's red cheeks.

“I had a feeling.... Anyway, San-kun, you really need to remember to turn your phone back on after a long weekend. Kisaki-sama's in town and he wants to have dinner with the two of us, plus some other bandmen. I'm sure Isshi-senpai would be welcome to join us.”

San nodded mutely, unable to completely contain the heavy sigh that escaped him. He respected Kisaki a great deal, was forever grateful to him for everything he had done to promote Nega over the years, but a big social dinner really wasn't what he was wanting. He wanted Isshi to take him home and make him feel treasured again. A quiet dinner, a hot bath, and if things progressed further than that, well....

“Such a terrible face,” Isshi murmured, brushing fingers against one cheek. “Ah, well, knowing Kisaki-kun, it's going to be a long dinner, so I suppose I'll just have to stay in the city tonight. Know of any good hotels in the area, kitten?”

The pure mischief in Isshi's smile eased something in Sans' chest and he couldn't help but return it.

“Oh that's such a shame, senpai,” he replied, “but I think I can help you find a place to stay for the night~”

“Ah! I don't want to hear any more!” Yu declared in mock protest, hands clapping over his ears even as he grinned at them. San couldn't help laughing, surprised at how much of a difference just being with Isshi could make to his mood. Knowing that he would be spending another night secure in those arms didn't hurt, either. Better still, knowing Isshi would still be there when Jin and Ray inevitably turned up again, expecting to finish what they had tried to start in the studio....

He really had meant to deal with those two on his own, but he wasn't going to turn down Isshi's help at this point, either. If he was being honest with himself, he had never really stood much chance of getting Jin to listen to him anyway, so maybe it was just as well that Isshi was going to end up getting involved. Maybe. They would find out one way or the other later that night, of that much he was certain.

~*~*~

After such a stressful day, San was more than happy to finally be home again. Isshi had been right about it being a long dinner, though even with as much as he had gone into it resenting the necessity, he had to admit he had enjoyed himself.

Even better than the chance to see old friends again, though, was having Isshi with him, taking an overnight bag - and how wonderfully sneaky of him to have had something like that in his car just in case - into the bedroom while San set about making them some tea. Something soothing and herbal that might help counter all the beer he'd had with dinner, a prelude of sorts to the bath he meant to take later, since he wasn't ready to go to bed just yet.

Despite his better intentions, halfway through the ridiculous program they had settled on for entertainment for the evening, San felt himself nearly falling asleep, cradled against Isshi's chest. Between the tea, the blanket, and Isshi's arms wrapped around him, he was so wonderfully warm, it was next to impossible not to just relax completely. San knew he was safe in Isshi's arms. Maybe it still didn't make sense to him, but he knew that Isshi cared. Knew that Isshi treasured him for more than just his body. In truth, his body barely factored into it, considering they still hadn't managed to have sex or really do much more than sporadic kisses and rather a lot of cuddling. And for once, San wasn't in any particular hurry. Oh he wanted it, caught himself fantasizing and dreaming about it, but at the same time, he didn't feel a need to _push_ for things to progress to that level yet. It would happen when it happened and for now he was content to let things fall into place in their own time.

So perhaps that was why he felt his temper flare white hot at the sound of his apartment door banging open a short time later, disturbing their perfectly peaceful moment.

“Oi, San-kun, you still haven't turned your fucking phone back on, ya stupid bitch.”

No surprise to hear his bandmates had been out drinking, but they weren't actually that drunk, irritatingly enough. At least then they would have had something like an excuse for just bursting into his apartment. Not that Jin or Ray, either one, had ever felt much need to worry themselves about something as insignificant as San's privacy.

Yet when he started to move to sit up, San was surprised to find Isshi wasn't letting him go so easily. Almost as if he were trying to make a point, waiting for his two bandmates to actually be standing in the lounge before letting him even just sit upright a bit more, though by that point he was content to stay laying against Isshi's chest. No point in hiding what Isshi was to him, after all, not from these two.

“Ray-kun. And you must be Jin-san,” Isshi said, his tone completely bland. Almost as if he didn't know full well exactly who San's bandmates were. Or why they would have just let themselves into the apartment the way they had.

“You again. San-kun, who the hell is this fucking guy anyway?” Ray asked, frowning. As if he didn't already know.

“Senpai, you remember my bandmates, Ray-kun and Jin-kun,” San said, unable to keep the sigh from his words. That might have been a mistake, the way Jin was frowning at him, but he had reached the point of no longer caring. He might regret it later, but at the moment he was just so tired of Jin's shit....

“Ah, is that why they let themselves in here so casually?” Isshi asked and San had to bite back a smile at the tone of casual disinterest.

“Mm, Jin-kun, Ray-kun, you remember Isshi-senpai of Kagrra, ne? He offered to see me home after our dinner meeting so Kisaki-sama didn't have to worry about it.”

“Is that so,” Jin said, eyes narrowing. “You really are a completely useless fucking whore, aren't you?”

San had no idea how it could have happened so quickly. One minute he had been curled against Isshi's chest and a beat later he found himself alone on the couch while Isshi had Jin on his hands and knees, a knee to his spine and a hand fisted in his hair. Both Jin and Ray looked shocked, Ray stepping back with his hands up, as if that might protect him.

“You _will not_ speak of San-kun in such a way,” Isshi rumbled, a dark and dangerous note to his voice that San had never heard. “You may have been a big dog in Osaka, but this is Tokyo, you are _nothing_ here. You wouldn't even _be_ here if not for San-kun and Kisaki-kun, and if I find out that you've raped my mate again, I promise you, your career will come to a quite sudden and thoroughly unremarkable end. No big scene, no dramatic finale, just a quiet disappearance in the middle of the night, perhaps a couple fans whispering unfounded rumors as they wonder between themselves about whatever happened to that one band from Undercode.”

San shivered at the finality, the passionless authority in Isshi's words. He wasn't making idle threats, he was delivering a cold, hard promise. And San didn't doubt that Isshi had the ability to do what he said. He knew Kisaki, and not just a passing acquaintance with the man, either, and that alone would be enough to see an end to them if Jin pushed Isshi to it. He didn't know why Isshi would punish him and Yu as well, but, well, if it came down to it, there were always other bands looking for a guitarist. Or perhaps he and Yu could find new members and start again themselves.

“Have I made myself clear yet, boys?”

Silence, but then of course there was. Isshi growled something dark and menacing and Jin suddenly yelped and tried to escape the fist in his hair. San felt his heart skip a beat when he saw a trickle of blood appear on Jin's neck. What the hell?

“I _said_ , have I made myself clear?” Isshi repeated, twisting the hand in Jin's hair. Another pained yelp from the vocalist and San could have sworn the trickle of blood was increasing.

“Issama....”

“Get out of here,” Isshi snarled, shoving Jin towards the door. For a second San could have sworn he saw Isshi's nails on one hand were long, gold-banded claws dripping with blood. He blinked and the vision was gone, just a normal pair of hands. He must have been more tired than he thought if he was having visual hallucinations now.

“That one is too stubborn by half,” Isshi sighed when their two uninvited guests were gone, drawing San close to him once more. “I think I may have to spend the week here with you, kitten.”

“Is your bag packed enough for that?” San asked, frowning.

“Not really, but I can manage. Wouldn't be the first time I had to buy more clothes,” Isshi replied, shrugging slightly. San nodded, shifting to snuggle himself against Isshi's chest once more. He couldn't stop shaking, his body's reaction to the stress of Isshi's confrontation with his bandmates, he was certain. He really did want to believe that Isshi's threats would be enough to put an end to Jin's selfishness, but a little voice in the back of his head insisted that it was only going to make Jin worse. If that was even truly possible.

“It'll be all right, kitten,” Isshi murmured, no doubt in response to San's tremors. “I'm right here, pet, and I'll do whatever it takes to protect you. I promise.”

He wanted to say something, to say he was all right, that he believed him, but he couldn't seem to make his mouth work. Instead, he huddled closer, wishing he could make his shivering stop as easily. And yet it seemed Isshi understood, holding him close and rubbing his back in slow, soothing caresses. He hated the tears he could feel trickling down his cheeks, but he couldn't seem to make _them_ stop, either.

“Shh, it'll be all right, pet.” Isshi murmured, the words little more than a low rumble in San's ears. He sniffled and tried his hardest to stop the tears, but still they came, getting worse instead of better, until he was sobbing against the other man's chest. He didn't understand it, why he was feeling this ache in his chest, why he was crying so hard. Why he couldn't stop, no matter what he tried, until he just gave up and clung to Isshi for dear life.

When the deep, wracking sobs finally, _finally_ subsided, he felt completely wrung out and limp. And yet he somehow also felt ... lighter. As if something had been weighing him down, something the tears had finally released.

“Mm, better now?” Isshi murmured, fingers still slowly carding through his hair. San managed a shaky nod, immediately regretting it for the way it made the whole room wobble and spin. Whimpering softly, he tried to scoot even closer to Isshi, as if that would somehow fix all his problems.

“Ah, how about I lock up and then we can go to bed, hmm?”

San huffed and pouted, but he couldn't summon up the energy for a more forceful protest. Especially when he could feel Isshi chuckling under him. Mean old man, already trying to deprive him of the warmth and comfort San had so greedily been taking all for himself.

“It'll just take a moment, kitten, and then you can have all the cuddles and pettings you wish, deal?”

Another dramatic huff, though this one was more for effect than substance. Somehow he found the strength, or maybe just the stubbornness, to get back onto his own two feet. He was wobbly and needed to grab things to keep from collapsing into a boneless heap, but somehow he made it to the bed before Isshi could rejoin him. He was even halfway to undressed when he felt the other man's hands on his body, pushing his jeans down his hips. San hummed softly, waiting for Isshi to finish undressing him before all but falling into bed. Isshi chuckled, pausing long enough to undress himself before joining him under the sheets. While San felt silly doing it, at his first opportunity, he snuggled himself up to Isshi again, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. It was probably just more of the aftereffects of whatever had happened to him on the couch earlier. He was feeling needy and, while not exactly lonely, something not entire _unlike_ it, either. Like he needed to feel Isshi close to him just to be sure this whole relationship thing wasn't all in his head, a product of his own overactive imagination.

“I promise you, I'm not going anywhere, kitten,” Isshi whispered as he brushed a kiss into his hair, once more showing an uncanny ability to follow his thoughts. There were so many things San wanted to say, but he didn't even know where to start.

“Why ... how ... you really mean it, don't you?” he mumbled, immediately feeling a fool for it. What was wrong with him, questioning this?

“Yes, kitten,” Isshi said, both arms circling about him, holding him close. “I warned you at the start, I tend to get attached to my submissive.”

“But ... it's only been a couple weeks and we still haven't ... done anything like that,” San said, feeling his cheeks heating even more at having to say the words. There were quite a number of perfectly good, perfectly valid reasons why they hadn't managed to have sex yet, and yet having to say it aloud, even indirectly, made him feel like he was failing as a submissive.

“A relationship is more than just sex, kitten, even a kinky relationship. Maybe especially a kinky relationship. And I think you underestimate what our time together has been worth. To the both of us.”

“But....”

San stopped when Isshi pressed a finger to his lips, though his doubts were still screaming at him inside his head. Things between them were so wrong, so out of balance. Everything up to now had been about San's wants and needs, when he should have been doing more to see to Isshi's needs. That was supposed to be his job as Isshi's contracted submissive, after all. And yet instead he had selfishly gone and gotten himself sick, repeatedly neglecting his Master's needs in favor of wallowing in his own utter uselessness.

“I know you can't help doubting your own worth, San-kun,” the older man said softly, breaking into the downward spiral of his thoughts. “After what that man has done to you, I understand, truly I do, but that doesn't make him right. You aren't weak and getting sick doesn't make you worthless or selfish. And if I have to tell you these things every day for the next hundred years, then so be it.

San felt certain he had to be redder than a tomato, hearing such words so casually spoken. He could feel it, the last shred of his resistence to the idea crumbling as his heart fell completely and irretrievably in love. Worse, he could feel tears tricking down his cheeks once again. Such weakness....

“Issama....”

But anything else he might have said caught in his throat, tangling with soft sobs, and he gave up, surrendered to his own stupid tears and the way Isshi was petting him, soothing him. Maybe Yu was right, maybe Isshi really was magic. It certainly felt like magic, the way the older man could have such an impact on him just by holding him, being there with him, for him.

“Go to sleep, kitten,” Isshi murmured, brushing a kiss into his hair. “You'll feel better in the morning, you'll see.”

A large part of him was certain that Isshi was far too good for him, spoiling him like this. He didn't deserve this, he really didn't, but if Isshi was going to insist on being with him, who was he to argue?

~*~*~

Isshi couldn't help a sigh of relief as he felt San finally cross over into proper sleep. He knew the only true cure for the doubts and lack of self-worth his kitten was harboring was the passage of time, but that didn't mean he had to like it. Still, not like it was any sort of burden to have to cradle San in his arms, hold him close and sing him to sleep. And at least while he was doing that, the inner demon was forced to pace inside of his head, instead of running loose, tearing out the throats of the two men who had done so much to damage his kitten. His mate.

He hadn't really been thinking when he had spoken those words earlier, hadn't planned out what he was going to say to San's bandmates. The truth was, he had been surprised to see them, even after everything San had told him about his twisted relationships with the two men. So he hadn't had any sort of speeches ready. His mouth had run away from him and he wasn't sure which disturbed him more, the way the word “mate” had rolled off his tongue so easily or the lack of reactions from the others. Maybe they hadn't understood? Not exactly how one usually referred to one's lover, and yet no one had questioned, not even to ask what he had meant.

He was thinking too hard about it. Not like he hadn't already suspected himself of being too attached to his kitten and this little slip of the tongue only further proved it. He and San could talk about it properly after a good night's sleep, if it was really necessary. In the meantime, he could use some of that sleep himself. If he was going to have to keep dealing with Jin - and he had tasted that one's blood, he had no illusions that Jin would “surrender” San without a fight - he was going to need all his strength.

~*~*~

Isshi walked San all the way to Nega's rehearsal space the next morning, even though San had tried to protest that it wasn't necessary, that there probably wouldn't even be anyone there to see the gesture anyway. And San hadn't been completely wrong, only the drummer, Yu, had been there to witness Isshi kissing San's cheek and promising to collect him for dinner. But that wasn't the point. Isshi was mostly certain that Yu was already on their side, but that wasn't the point, either. He knew his pet needed to see and hear and _feel_ that he was important to him if they were to ever repair the damage to his self-worth inflicted by Jin and Ray. So he would make him breakfast, walk him to and from the studio, tuck love notes in his wallet or lunch bento, make him tea and curl up with him for an evening of mindless television. All the little things that would, over time, add up to an unshakeable truth: that Isshi truly did appreciate and cherish San.

“... well ... you're surprisingly awake and put together for being this early. _And_ Starbucks? All right, what have you done now?” Izumi asked, frowning up at him even as he accepted the offered coffee. Isshi couldn't help laughing, producing two wrapped muffins as well as he sat down.

“Not a bribe, oh fearless leader,” he teased. “I'm staying in the city this week. The dogs will be fine, though I'm sure Gucci will give me quite the scolding this weekend, but it wouldn't be fair to San-kun to take him back to the house every night this week.”

“He's going to have to get used to that commute at some point if you mean to keep him,” Izumi said quietly, arching an eyebrow at him.

“After the new year, if he so chooses. Too many late nights between now and then, he's going to need all the sleep he can get,” he said, shaking his head.

“... you don't actually expect me to believe it's as simple as that, do you?” Izumi asked. Isshi glanced sidelong at his friend and sighed, though he could also feel a smile tugging at his lips. Perhaps ten years wasn't so very long in the grander scheme of things, but it was long enough.

“All right, you've caught me,” he confessed, sipping his coffee a moment. “I'm also doing it to send a message to his bandmates, particularly his vocalist, Jin. Whatever arrangement that one _thinks_ they've had, I'm ending it, whether he likes it or not. San-kun is mine now.”

“Right, well, just remember, I'm not putting up bail money or visiting you in jail, oni-sama,” the drummer mock grumped between bites of muffin. “If I have to replace you because you've been impulsive and murdered some jackass, I will. Even if he deserved it.”

“Ah, you know I would never do such a thing to you, oh great and benevolent Leader-sama,” Isshi intoned, though he couldn't completely contain a small smile. Izumi snorted, though which part of his statement he was contesting remained up for debate. No matter. He knew exactly how to deal with someone like Jin, no prison time necessary.

~*~*~

“Hey, Yu-kun, why don't you take a long lunch,” Ray drawled as he took off his bass. “There's something I gotta ... discuss with the boss here and it's probably gonna take awhile.”

“Meaning you want sex and you want me out of the way. Just how stupid do you think I am, anyway?” the drummer grumbled, glowering at the bassist as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“What? No, no, it's nothing like that! It's totally band business!” Ray protested. San stifled the urge to sigh, instead rubbing his forehead with two fingers. Things had been going so well all morning, he probably he should have seen this coming, really.

“Bullshit. If it's band related, then we should all be here to discuss it together as a band,” Yu countered, crossing his arms over his chest. When had things gotten to be like this? _How_ had things gotten to be like this? Ok, part of it was he had stopped bending over backwards to please Jin, but that didn't explain everything, did it? Not to this extent, right?

“Why Yu-kun,” Jin drawled suddenly and San felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle at the tone in the other man's voice. “If I had known you were so eager to watch me fuck San-kun here like the dirty little slut he is, I would have let you. All you had to do was ask. He doesn't mind an audience, isn't that right, whore?”

That was the last straw.

“You know what? Fuck you, Jin. Fuck yourself right the fuck off. You and I are history. We're not fucking anymore, we're never going to have sex again, and if you can't get that through that thick fucking skull of yours, then go right the fuck back to Osaka. Same goes for you, Ray. I've had it with both of you. I'm cancelling practice for the rest of the year. Hell, I'm cancelling through January, too. You guys can have all that time to figure out what the fuck you really want out of life. I don't want to see any of you fuckers until our next live, got me?”

Jerking the cable out of his amp, he snatched up his coat and bags and stormed out of the room. He headed straight for the studio office, only pausing long enough in the elevator to put his guitar into its case. He could hardly believe how angry he was. Or that all of those words had actually come out of his mouth. He almost felt like he had been - maybe even still was? - possessed by some other person entirely. And yet it had also felt so good to actually spit all that anger out where everyone could see it, where no one could shove it down and pretend it wasn't real. He'd needed this, clearly.

~*~*~

The fire of anger had long since abandoned him by the time San reached Kagrra's studio space, leaving him nervous and worried. Had he really done the right thing, cancelling all their practices like that? There wasn't all that much year left, but with everything else on their schedule, he worried now that cancelling everything in January, too, had been a mistake. Not that he could change his mind about it now that he had already gone to corporate with the schedule change. He expected management to give him a hard time about making such a sudden and drastic change without consulting them first, but he had already texted Kisaki to tell him that he needed to talk to him, maybe that would help? And maybe he would bring Isshi to the meeting, too, as backup? Isshi would understand why he had acted the way he had, right? He would support him with his senpai, wouldn't he?

But what if he didn't? What if he told San that he had acted childishly? What if he told him that he had been wrong to act so rashly? What if Kisaki wouldn't support him either? What if Kisaki started questioning his ability to handle Nega because of this? Oh gods, what had he done???

“Eh? San-kun? We were planning to work through lunch today, is everything all right?”

San startled at the touch of Nao's hand to his shoulder, then immediately flushed with embarrassment and guilt. Just his senpai, there was no reason for him to be jumping out of his skin like that.

“Oh, um, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to impose, senpai, I didn't know. It's nothing, I'll jus–....”

But before he could finish, Nao was taking him by the arm and pulling him into the studio. All eyes turned to them and San felt himself blushing harder than ever.

“Ne, ne, Isshi-kun, I found your kitten. You should have said you were wanting to have lunch with him, you naughty oni-sama~” Nao teased and San felt himself wishing even harder that he could roll back time so he could have gone home instead.

“Naoran needs to stop assuming he knows everything,” Isshi grumbled, moving across the room to claim San's arm for himself. He really wished he could stop blushing, but he felt so ridiculous. And the way he was being escorted out of a room he had only juste barely stepped foot into a moment earlier wasn't helping.

“It's fine, Isshi-kun, we can keep working without you, not like we haven't plenty of times before,” Akiya called after them, Isshi responding with a negligent gesture. At this rate, San was certain he was going to implode from embarrassment. And yet, instead of trying to immediately demand an explanation, Isshi quietly walked with him to a nearby café, even getting them settled at a table and ordering tea for them both.

“So ... what did they do now?” Isshi asked softly, leaning back when the waitress returned all too quickly with their tea. San fidgeted, inwardly grateful for the delay of having to wait for her to leave before he could answer while at the same time feeling no closer to a proper answer even when she was gone. Of course Isshi had cut right to the heart of the matter with just one question, but what else could he have expected, turning up unannounced with his guitar on his back, right?

“I ... Jin-kun pushed one too many buttons and I ... I cancelled rehearsals until February,” he confessed, watching the way the tea swirled in his cup. He couldn't look up, couldn't risk meeting those eyes that surely had to be filled with disapproval right now. How could he have done something so childish??

“I'm sure the others won't mind if you wanted to stay and watch us work. Or I can find you a quiet place to work on whatever you want until I can take you home with me this evening,” Isshi said and San jerked his head up to blink at him in surprise. It couldn't be that easy, could it?

“S-senpai....”

“Izumi-kun will pout if I take you back to the house right now, but I think I can stay out long enough to drop by your apartment if you need to grab your laptop for this afternoon? Or we can just get lunch now and then stop there after work so you can pack more things, if you're going to be living with me for the next month and change.”

“Senpai! I ... I mean, I ... senpai!”

“That _is_ what you want, isn't it?” Isshi asked quietly, a hint of a frown reappearing. San felt himself blushing again, struggling to resist the urge to hide his face in his hands. Or sink under the table and just disappear.

“Y-yes, if ... if you'll still have me,” he mumbled, trying not to rub his cheek.

“Such things you say, kitten,” and even though he knew better, for an instant San could have sworn he felt Isshi's lips on his, Isshi's fingers in his hair. “We should get you something for lunch and your laptop, ne?”

“Y-yeah,” San agreed, rubbing his palms on his jeans. It was ridiculous how much he was blushing when Isshi hadn't even done anything to him. Yet. There was something in the other man's face, though, that seemed to be promising all sorts of wonderfully inappropriate things, if he could just wait until evening. And that much San was certain he could do.

~*~*~

Isshi kept catching himself glancing over to the corner where San had settled, curled up on the couch with his headphones on, working on something or other on his laptop and in general ignoring them completely. There was no reason for it, San was just fine, but a voice at the back of his head worried that San would just disappear if he didn't keep an eye on him. Even though he knew that was completely ridiculous.

“No, no, no! Icchama, if you can't focus, I'm going to ask San-kun to work somewhere else, that's four times in a row now that you've come in off key!”

“I have not!” he protested, half scowling at his bandleader and friend. “I know which notes to hit where.” Of all the ridiculous accusations....

“Really? Because you know we've been recording this session, so I can always have Asano-san rewind and play back that last entry for you if you like,” Izumi countered, frowning at him.

“I'm sure that won't be necessary,” he replied diffidently, holding up a placating hand. True or not, all these false starts were already eating up enough precious rehearsal time without him being needlessly stubborn over something that didn't really matter. A strange thing for them to be recording, but as long as they weren't the ones having to pay for it....

A deep breath and Isshi forced his mind away from his kitten, and all the things he intended to do with him later, and back to the work at hand. A couple more hours and he would have San all to himself. And perhaps now was the time to do something more about San's thinking that things were out of balance in their relationship. He would be lying if he were to say he was completely content with the way things were. As much as he cherished the time they had already spent together, he knew the lack of sexual contact was something that still lay unresolved between them, another of San's doubts. He almost regretted that he hadn't accepted the younger man's offer that first night, but things hadn't played out properly. And since then, well, things still hadn't managed to play themselves out properly. Something Isshi was determined to correct, now that he was going to have his pet in his house for the next month.

“ _Shinohara Hitoshi!_ ”

That was bad, the way the whole band screeched to a discordant stop at the tone in Izumi's voice. Isshi could see that last frayed edge of Izumi's patience and forced back a grimace. He instead made a show of turning his back to San and closing his eyes; he couldn't risk disappointing Izumi any further. With a deep breath, he focused on shuttering his awareness, narrowing his focus to just this moment, just this place. To just the music, the band, and nothing else. There would be time for everything else later.

~*~*~

San had felt Isshi's eyes on him more than once while he had been trying his best to focus on his work. Slightly useless, perhaps, especially when he didn't really have all that much to do, what with his band taking a sudden break. So he pulled on his headphones and hoped that maybe that would help him think about something other than Isshi. Instead he found all he could think about was the phantoms of his Master's touch, what it would feel like to have him kissing him, touching him, laying him bare and taking him to the heights of shared pleasure. Closing his eyes made it worse, erotic images dancing behind his eyelids that persisted for a moment even after he opened them again. Maybe this had been a mistake, maybe he should have stayed home instead of coming back here, but a part of him had still felt the need to cling, had still wanted the comfort of being close. And an even greater part had feared what might have happened if he really had stayed at his apartment all by himself.

He didn't mean to jump out of his skin every time someone touched him, especially when that someone turned out to be Isshi. At least Isshi didn't back away, instead squeezing his shoulder and offering him a sympathetic smile.

“All done?” San asked as he took off his headphones.

“Done for tonight, anyway. I'm all yours for the evening now.”

“... shouldn't that be my line?” San teased, taking a moment to stretch long limbs before starting to pack up his things.

“Perhaps, but since you're the one who's been waiting on me....”

“I didn't mind,” he demurred, smiling a little. “Better than being home alone.”

“Bright and early again tomorrow, Icchama, don't forget,” Izumi scolded as they walked out of the studio together. Isshi tossed the drummer a backwards wave and San had to bite back a giggle, knowing the sorts of things he always thought when one of his bandmates did that sort of thing to him. Of course Isshi would no doubt actually be on time for whatever was planned for tomorrow, unlike his own vocalist at this point. Something he was going to have to find a way of correcting when they got back to work next year, though for now he was content not to worry about it.

In hindsight, he really shouldn't have been so surprised to walk into his apartment and find Jin smoking on his couch, or the dark look that appeared when Isshi came up behind him.

“Guess I shouldn't be surprised to see you ran straight to your _danna_ ,” Jin grumbled, stubbing out his cigarette in a half-full ashtray that San was certain had been empty that morning. “Too chickenshit to face me yourself, I see.”

“I said everything I needed to say already, Jin-kun,” San said, crossing his arms over his chest in hopes that it would give him the strength to stand his ground. “Go home.”

“We aren't finished, you can't hide from me forever,” Jin said, glowering at them both as he got up. San felt his breath catch and then he felt Isshi's hand on the small of his back as the older man stepped closer to him. He could do this. He had to do this.

“I've already warned you once, Jin-kun,” Isshi said, that same cold authority from the previous night back in his voice. “San-kun does not belong to you. If you can't say what you have to say in front of me, then it doesn't need to be said.”

“You think you're the first rich guy San's opened his legs for?” Jin said, snorting and rolling his eyes. “You think you're special just because you're our senpai. Don't flatter yourself. He'll get tired of whatever game he's playing with you and then you'll be gone. San will always come crawling back to me. He knows his place.”

San could see Jin's intention to brush past them like the arrogant prick that he was. And maybe in other circumstances, with some other man, it would have worked. But Isshi wasn't someone to be brushed aside so easily. San couldn't help but wince at the violence and speed with which Isshi had Jin pinned to the wall, one hand around his throat and a vicious snarl curving his lips.

“You think you can say such things to me so casually and just walk away?” Isshi hissed. “Your kind makes me sick. All those big words, but you're nothing but piss and wind. And maybe not even that much.”

“... Issama....”

For a moment, San wasn't sure if Isshi had even heard him. A squeeze of his hand and then Isshi was letting go of Jin, stepping back from him. San took a steadying breath, half expecting Jin to explode himself, but instead the vocalist just rubbed his throat, scowling even harder. Even more oddly, he wasn't taking the opening to storm out of the tiny apartment. Maybe they were finally starting to get through to him? Probably not, but this was a chance for him to reinforce his own intentions. He would take it.

“I told you before, Jin-kun, we're through. Don't come here looking for me again like this. I don't want to see you again until our next live. Go home.”

Mentally steeling himself for another outburst of some sort, San forced himself to turn his back on his vocalist, forced himself to walk towards his bedroom. But the outburst didn't come, his feet carrying him into his bedroom without interruption. He was pretty sure that meant Isshi was giving Jin a death glare - or worse - but he wasn't going to tempt fate by looking back to see. Instead, he busied himself with packing and trying not to think. One of those was a lot easier than the other, especially as the silence stretched on into what felt like an eternity. Surely his mind was just messing with him, surely Jin had left by now, even if he hadn't heard the front door open or close.

Arms stole around him and he almost jumped out of his own skin.

“Just me, pet,” Isshi murmured with a gentle squeeze. “Are you almost ready?”

“I'm probably forgetting things, but since I can't remember what any of them are....” San trailed off with a self-annoyed snort. He was being ridiculous, getting so annoyed over something so small. And it was probably entirely to do with Jin as opposed to anything he was actually forgetting.

“Shh, relax, pet,” Isshi soothed. “It's fine, ne? You're coming to live with me for awhile, not leaving this place forever. If you find you've forgotten something important, we'll just come back here and get it, it's not a problem.”

San nodded, forcing himself to take a deep breath and then exhale slowly. Stupid fucking Jin, coming in here like he owned the place, getting him all wound up and agitated for nothing. At least Isshi was with him.

“Hmm, yes, I think tonight is an eating out night, definitely,” Isshi said a beat later, giving him another squeeze before letting go and turning him around to face him. “You're obviously too wound up to cook and I'm too hungry to wait for us to get home first anyway. What sounds best to you?”

“Oh, well, um, I don't know,” he confessed, annoyed to feel himself blushing for what felt like the millionth time. Maybe it was completely natural that Isshi was still able to make him feel like a giddy schoolgirl, for as few weeks as they had been together, but San still felt completely hopeless for it. How much longer was Isshi going to be willing to put up with his nonsense? Maybe he didn't really want to know, maybe he would be better off not thinking about that at all.

“No idea at all? Hmm, that ass really did throw you for a loop, didn't he?” Isshi murmured, cupping San's cheek. San felt himself shiver, but he couldn't deny the truth. “All right, we'll go with comfort food tonight, I know just the place.”

He was tempted to tell Isshi that it wasn't the food he would find comforting, then decided that sounded entirely too much like a high school girl thing to say. Or else a really terrible line. Either way, he would just keep the thought to himself and soak up Isshi's attentions while he could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's taking me several weeks between chapters. If you haven't noticed, SWG's chapters are pretty dang long and dense, so it takes me awhile to get through processing them. Plus I have other writing commitments, so really, I'd just get used to the thought that I might only update this once a month. ;)
> 
> In the original timeline, this would have been the first hints that _maybe_ Isshi isn't exactly what he seems. Of course, if you've been reading through Gensou, you already know that, but shhh. ;)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you haven't yet, do read [Possession Is Nine-Tenths of the Law](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11954700) now, which slots in neatly between chapters 6 and 7 and covers some of the jump in time between the two. Welcome to 2010.

Isshi smiled a little as he watched the hustle of staffers and crew getting ready for a full night of music, a sort of controlled chaos with which he was quite familiar. PS Company had elected not to host a countdown event themselves this year, leaving Isshi free to support his lover, though for the moment he was simply keeping out of the way. He was here as a guest, there really wasn't anything else for him to do at this point.

Until he saw a nearly frantic San. Catching his young lover by the arm, he drew him aside.

“What is it, kitten, what's wrong?”

“No one's seen Jin-kun since this morning. He was supposed to be back here an hour ago and now he's not answering his phone.”

“Deep breath, kitten,” he admonished softly, drawing him further away from the hustle all around them. “I'm sure he'll be here, his ego won't allow him  _not_ to be here tonight. Doors don't even open for another, what, two or three hours? He'll be here. He might not have much of an excuse for himself, but he'll be here.”

His words clearly failing to have much effect, Isshi pressed a discreet kiss to San's cheek and tried to push a bit of calm onto him. For better or worse, that actually worked, San closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

“You're right, he's probably just lost track of time somewhere. Thank you, Issama,” San said, smiling shyly. A squeeze of his hand and San went back to whatever preparations he had been making. Isshi closed his own eyes for a moment to catch his bearings, then made his way upstairs to the tiny office where Kisaki had made his own temporary escape.

“Shouldn't you be downstairs supervising?” Isshi asked, taking a seat on the small couch next to his friend.

“I couldn't think, couldn't breathe,” the other man said with a shake of his head. “I think I might actually, finally be getting too old for all this.”

“Don't let _them_ hear you say that,” Isshi replied, laughing. “You'll need the next hour just to get them to stop fussing about how you're not that old at all and what would any of them do without you?”

Kisaki snorted, but he also leaned over for a moment of support and comfort. As many years as they had known each other now, Isshi wasn't really surprised. There was a comfort in a friendship as old as theirs.

“This thing with you and San-kun,” Kisaki said softly.

“You of all people should know better than to worry if he's safe in my care, old friend,” Isshi scolded lightly.

“What? No, no, of course I trust you. But ... have you told him?”

“There are oceans of things he has yet to learn, my friend. I will take things slowly with him, just as I always do. He is safe with me, I promise.”

“And woe to he who tries to take what is yours?” Kisaki replied with a slow smirk. “Jin-kun won't be dissuaded easily.”

“Yes, about that one....”

“Ah, don't judge me too harshly, old friend,” the other man said with a heavy sigh, shifting to lean back against the back of the couch and frown up at the ceiling, brushing a lock of hair away from his face as he did. “I did _try_ to get San-kun to talk to me, but he always insisted everything was fine. And then they moved up here and you know, it's not as easy to dispose of an abuser as it might have been a hundred years ago. I couldn't just _eat_ the asshole. I told him I wouldn't tolerate him abusing San-kun, but I always suspected all I had really done with that was push him to be more subtle about it. I wasn't wrong, was I?”

“The world might have been better off if you had just eaten him,” Isshi muttered, shaking his head. What was done was done, though; recrimination served no purpose now.

“Gasbag like that would have given me terrible indigestion anyway,” Kisaki said, laughing a little to try to ease the tensions of the moment. “Just ... be easy with San-kun, yes?”

“Tadashi, how long have we known each other?” Isshi asked with a soft sigh. 

“I know, I know, but...,” Kisaki trailed off with a low sigh of his own. “I've already failed him too many times, Hikkun.”

“If you're that worried ... come home with us tonight?”

“... I should really go back to Osaka,” the other man sighed, still staring up at the ceiling instead of meeting Isshi's eyes. No doubt looking for an excuse. Well, that was easily done.

“You really shouldn't drive straight back after this. Stay with us for tomorrow at least. Naoran's been planning for this all week, there will be plenty of food. And then you'll be able to see for yourself that you can stop worrying about San-kun.”

Isshi could feel Kisaki wavering, torn between an intention to say no and the lingering need to be sure San was in the best of hands. Sliding a careful arm around his friend, he tugged him into a light hug. A beat and the other man shifted, turning into the hug with a vulnerable noise, ignoring hair and makeup to lean into Isshi's chest for a long moment. It was enough, careful fingers threading into Kisaki's hair in a gentle petting.

“I'll be offended if you say no, Tadashi,” he said after a bit.

“Well, we can't have that, can we?” Kisaki replied, patting Isshi's chest before gently pulling away and getting up. “All right, you win. This time. Ah, I should get back to work before someone panics and comes looking for me.”

With a laugh, Isshi let his friend go. He needed to call Naoki now anyway. As much as he was certain there would be no issue with adding Kisaki to their New Year's plans, he also knew better than to do so without notifying the bassist. Sure, there were times when it amused him to get Naoki all riled up, but this was not one of those times. San would blame himself, for one thing, and Isshi couldn't have that, not when inviting Kisaki to stay with them had been _his_ idea. Something that would be good for both his friend and his dear kitten. In too many ways, San was still too fragile. Hopefully this could prove another step in the healing process.

~*~*~

By the end of the countdown live, San was both exhausted and wired. He just hoped the pending crash would at least wait for him to be home first.

“San-kun, come on. A bunch of these guys are going out for celebratory drinks, you should join us.”

“Oh, um, I've actually got. –.”

“Come on, sweet cheeks, you know you wanna,” Ray drawled, sliding arms around him and nuzzling his neck. San stiffened, feeling the first tendrils of panic.

“San-kun, there you are. Sorry, Ray-kun, but I need to steal your leader from you for a bit,” Kisaki said, the light smile on his face a poor cover for the steel in his words.

“Whore,” Ray mumbled into San's ear, grabbing a handful of his crotch. Fury boiled in his veins, but Ray was already out of reach, calling out to one of their other labelmates. Kisaki, on the other hand, looked fit to be tied.

“Kisaki-sama....”

“Don't you _dare_ make excuses for him, San-kun, I won't have it,” his boss said with a firm look. “You were right to make the band take a break. I'll e-mail those two later, remind them why their band is on break this month. In the mean time, I think someone's waiting for you.”

San was a little surprised at the natural smile that followed those words, the easy way Kisaki caught his arm and started walking him back to Nega's dressing room. He was less surprised to see Isshi there waiting for him, heat rushing into his cheeks even as he hurried over to press himself close to Isshi in a needy hug. And yet his boyfriend didn't seem to mind in the least, hugging him tightly and murmuring gentle soothing into his ear. He didn't know how long he might have stayed there like that if not for the polite cough from behind them.

“I don't know about San-kun, but _I_ would feel better for a shower and changed clothes. And since Ikkun insisted I stay with him tonight....”

“He did? You did??”

“It's a long drive back to Osaka. You don't mind, do you, kitten?”

“What? I ... no, no, of course not, I just.... Really?” San stammered, feeling his cheeks flush even more. He felt surprised but then also silly for being surprised. This really was such an Isshi thing to do....

“But won't your family miss you?” he blurted out as he turned back towards Kisaki, feeling even more embarrassed the moment the words hit his ears. And he was supposed to be someone who knew how to control his tongue.

“I have family here, too, you know,” Kisaki admonished. Another soft smile and San felt even sillier at the realization that his senpai meant him. Nega might have relocated to Tokyo, but of course they were still part of the Under Code family. As much as San missed spending the holiday with his own family, the countdown live had made that decision for him. And he didn't regret it one bit. His parents hadn't been entirely happy with it, of course, but he'd had Obaasan's blessing, that was all he had really needed.

“You can still change your mind, you know,” Isshi said softly, holding the car door open for him. San hesitated, glancing between his two senpai. Was Isshi actually offering....?

“I ... I know how much work Nao-senpai has put into things,” San stammered. “I already told them I wouldn't be able to make it back home this year, if I went back on that now, they'd never believe me again.”

“Fair enough,” Isshi said, smiling and kissing his cheek. “You know I had to offer.”

As ridiculous as it was, San was certain he was blushing again as he got into Isshi's car. The little knowing hum from Kisaki as his boss settled into the back seat somehow made it worse, though he couldn't tell if that hum meant the man approved or disapproved.

Panic flashed through him suddenly at the realization that this was the most open, even _blatant_ with his orientation and relationship status he had ever been in front of his boss. He hadn't even thought about it, to be honest, letting his emotions get the better of him. And, too, he had just been following Isshi's lead, really, without so much as even a second thought. But now....

“San-kun, really,” Kisaki said, reaching forward to squeeze his shoulder briefly, “despite what you may have heard, I am not a bigot. Isshi-kun and I have been friends for a long time now. If the two of you are happy together, who am I to say it's wrong? Love is love is love, there is no more precious a thing.”

Panic morphed into shame for having thought the worst of his senpai, even if it had only been for a moment. He should have trusted Isshi's judgement more.

“Relax, San-kun,” Kisaki admonished gently. “I _do_ know how certain words of mine have been framed. Your secret's safe with me, I promise.”

Another blush. Still, San was grateful, both for the support and the promise to keep things quiet.

~*~*~

Isshi quietly excused himself, even though he hadn't really been part of the conversation, and pulled on a heavy coat before stepping out of his front door. Izumi's car sat in front of his carport, the drummer wrangling something out of the trunk while Naoki pulled bags out of the back seat. As soon as he was close enough, the bassist spun around to give Isshi a tight hug, then pressed a couple grocery bags into his hands.

“Go on, we've got this, fussy oni-sama. Icchama just better have tea ready, it's freezing out here!”

“... exaggerating as usual, I see. Are you sure you're really from Hokkaido, Naoran? Such a delicate flower you are”

“Tea!” Naoki demanded, laughing as he bent to scoop up more bags. He was pretty sure Naoki had brought enough food to feed a small army, even though Isshi was only expecting the five of them. Then again, that was Naoki, always ready to (at least try to) mother Isshi into submission.

Though he hadn't said anything about it, not wanting to interrupt San's conversation with Kisaki, he couldn't say he was surprised to find his kitten in his kitchen, fussing over a fresh pot of tea.

“Kitten....”

“No. It's your house and that means taking care of it and your guests falls to me,” San mumbled, almost scowling at the teapot he was warming. As if he was expecting an argument. His young lover wasn't wrong, indeed Isshi himself had promised to let San and Naoki settle out their differences as far as who should be doing what on their own. That it hadn't happened yet was largely his own fault, he couldn't very well go back on his word now just because of an outside guest. Especially when said guest would be understanding of the situation. Setting the bags Naoki had given him on the counter, he turned and pressed a kiss to San's cheek.

“You're right, kitten, and I'll leave you two to sort it out in whatever way feels best to you.”

San looked about to say something when Naoki came bustling in and tried to order them both out. The determined look on San's face made Isshi smile; perhaps Kuina had been righter than even he knew. He made sure his office door was sealed, then got out of the way, returning to the front lounge just in time to hear something crash in the kitchen. Izumi was halfway to the hall when Isshi caught him.

“If they need us, they'll call. Naoran and San-kun need to sort this out themselves.”

Izumi hesitated a moment and then the words clicked and he nodded, moving back over to the couch.

“Is everything all right?” Kisaki asked with a small, worried frown. A frown that grew a bit bigger at a second crash and raised voices.

“It will be, once they get this all out of their systems,” Izumi said, shaking his head as he smiled. “This is the first time we've been here since Icchama contracted him that San hasn't been feeling ill. Naoran's gotten used to being the wife again.”

“Ah, well, San-kun has never been afraid to fight for what he thinks should be his,” Kisaki said with a nod and a slow smile. “As long as you're sure....”

“They _are_ in the kitchen,” Izumi added with a wry grin.

“I don't think either of them are the sort to resort to violence,” Isshi said, though he found himself silently wondering when yet another thing crashed to the kitchen floor. The bickering voices were approaching the lounge, but Isshi forced himself to stay seated, even when they came tumbling into the room, still pointing fingers and assigning blame over the top of each other.

“ENOUGH!” Izumi said suddenly, earning himself a pair of stunned expressions. “What are you two, ten?”

“He started it!” they both said at the same time. Isshi had to restrain his own urge to smile, especially when he saw Kisaki turning away to hide a smile of his own.

“And I suppose the two of you came in here expecting me to solve this problem for you,” Isshi said in his sternest tone, fixing them both with a hard look. “You are not children. Naoran, I love you, but San-kun is my contracted submissive and he lives here now. I'm sure the two of you can be adults about this long enough to work out a reasonable compromise, yes? Now ... what happened to the tea?”

“He tried to yank the tray out of my hands and shattered the pot on the kitchen floor,” San grumbled, stubbornly crossing his arms over his chest.

“Well if you had just left with Issama like you were _supposed_ to!” Naoki shot back, taking up an equally defensive and yet defiant posture. Isshi quirked an eyebrow at them both, silently counting the seconds of their continued defiance. He wasn't really surprised that it was San who folded first, silently bowing and retreating. The second San moved, Naoki's confidence wavered and then he was hurrying after the younger man.

“... think they'll actually sort it out themselves now?” Izumi asked with a small smirk.

“We'll find out soon enough,” Isshi replied with a shrug. He had faith the two men would find a solution on their own now. Hopefully without any further damage to his kitchen, though even that would be a small enough price to pay for lasting peace between them.

~*~*~

After such a long day, San was more relieved than he wanted to admit to be allowed a moment alone at the back of the house. He loved Isshi's house, the combination of modern architecture with traditional design aesthetics, but after the day he'd been having, he loved the grand size of it even more. Bundled in his coat, enjoying a last smoke of the day, he was finally alone, at peace.

“Mind some company?”

San glanced over at Kisaki and smiled, gesturing with his own cigarette as he spoke: “Not at all.”

They smoked in companionable silence for awhile, watching the night. Maybe this really was all Kisaki wanted? San glanced sidelong at his boss, not too surprised to see he seemed lost in thought. Well, that was fine, it wasn't like he minded the stillness.

“Forgive me if this seems a silly question, but ... are you happy?” Kisaki asked at last, startling San out of his own quiet thoughts. That ... was not a question he had been expecting from the man.

“What? I ... of course,” he stammered, worried he was somehow answering the question wrong.

“It's all right to say no, you know. If things with Jin-kun and Ray-kun are getting in the way of your happiness....”

“I'm not ready to give up on them just yet,” he said with a shake of his head. “These three years together, musically, we have something good going for us. I'm not ready to quit. I just ... think they need this break to remind them why I _really_ joined the band.”

“Oh San-kun,” Kisaki said with a soft laugh, “don't ever change, darling, but believe me when I say I'm pretty sure your guitar talents had nothing to do with it.”

San couldn't help a heavy blush at those words. He had long suspected, of course, but to have his worst fears confirmed so casually....

“Don't misunderstand me, you have incredible talents, San-kun, and Nega wouldn't be where it is now without you, but I dare say that's more a happy accident than any planning on Jin-kun's part.”

San didn't know what to say to that. He hated the idea that Jin still thought of him as nothing but a decent fuck, even when the evidence was staring him in the face. It had been bad enough overhearing Jui talking about it so easily, but if Kisaki knew, too ... was it even still a secret at all then? Had it ever been?

“San-kun ... you are more than what he thinks. I support you. I agree, it would be a shame to lose Nega, but in the end, you need to do what will give _you_ the best chance at happiness, you understand?”

“I'm not ready to give up on us just yet,” San repeated, finishing his cigarette. “Jin-kun can either accept that I'm not his ... his little fucktoy anymore or he can leave, same with Ray-kun. If I need to remind them of that....”

“For right now, don't worry about those two anymore, okay? It's a holiday, you're allowed to enjoy yourself for a change. You know what they say about all work and no play, ne?”

San could feel his cheeks going hot again, though he wasn't really sure why. It wasn't like Kisaki had said anything inappropriate.

“Isshi-kun is insisting I stay another night,” his boss said after another moment. “You don't mind, do you? I'll go home after breakfast. Probably.”

“It's fine, ne?” he said, offering him a small smile. With Izumi and Naoki staying the night already, it wasn't like one more guest would change anything. Indeed, San had already accepted that he and Isshi wouldn't be having sex again until after the holiday. Unfortunate, since he quite liked the way Isshi made him feel, but he would live with it. Especially since he was more than half hoping Isshi would later feel the need to make it up to him and oh did he have ideas for how that could happen.

“I really am happy for the two of you, but the way,” Kisaki said with a genuine smile of his own. “You've both been through so much ... I'm glad to see how good you two are together. He's needed someone like you for ... a long time, really. So if there's anything you need....”

“Thank you, Kisaki-sama,” San murmured, suddenly shy again. He couldn't think of anything they might need his boss's help with, but he still appreciated the offer. And the genuine, easy acceptance.

~*~*~

Isshi smiled as he walked over to the latest car to crowd into his drive.

“Here, let me take her,” he said, filing away the relief that had flickered across Melody's face for a moment.

“She's been fussing the whole last hour,” the woman said as she offered the whimpering baby to him. “I don't know if it's the weather or just a phase or what.”

“Probably a touch of colic,” Isshi said, tucking the small bundle to his chest. “There, there now, little angel, grandpa has just the thing to make it all better.”

Lovelie had already stopped fussy, staring up at him with obvious curiosity. He could feel it, that touch of gas that was so common in babies. Well, he knew just how to fix that.

“Told you Dad would get her quiet,” Miyavi said as he came around the car with a giant diaper bag. “He's magic with kids, always has been.”

Isshi couldn't help a little chuckle as he turned back towards the house. He knew Melody didn't understand why her husband, who had quite a good relationship with his own biological parents, still felt the need to refer to him as “dad” and he wasn't about to try to explain it to her, either. It was just one of those things. Miyavi's departure from PS Company didn't make him any less family as far as Isshi was concerned. It helped his heart to know he wasn't the only one to feel that way.

He could sense San's unease even before he stepped back into the house. Isshi's bandmates had been one thing, but this was something else entirely. That the younger man hadn't come to the genkan only confirmed his suspicion that his young mate didn't know where he stood or how to present himself in this situation.

And then Naoki was poking his head around the corner, a huge grin appearing shortly thereafter.

“Ah-ha! I thought so!” his friend said with a light laugh, tugging San around the corner with him. “Aww, Lovelie-chan is getting so big! Can I hold her? Oh, or does San-kun want to? Oh right, you've probably met Mikkun before, but this is his lovely wife, Melody-san, who's entirely too good for him, by the way, and their little angel, Lovelie Miyabi.”

“P-pleasure to meet you,” San stammered, bowing quickly so he could take the baby Isshi quietly pushed into his arms. In an instant, the nervousness was replaced with a kind of quiet awe as Lovelie slept through the transfer, accepting without question that she was safe. Even Miyavi seemed impressed.

“San-kun of Nega, right?”

“Y-you ... you know me?”

“It's the blue hair,” Miyavi replied with a grin, taking a moment to actually give Isshi and Naoki the hugs he hadn't been able to a moment ago. “But yeah, you guys are pretty good. If you ever decide you don't want to be with Under Code anymore....”

“Oi! I heard that!” Kisaki called out, but Miyavi only laughed, happily letting himself and his family be gently herded into the front lounge.

“No poaching my best talent behind my back, you. _Or_ in front of my face, for that matter!” Kisaki huffed with a mock accusing glare. Miyavi held up his hands but his smile was completely unrepentant.

“Just making an offer. Nothing wrong with offering, is there?”

“Nega is very happy where we are,” San said, smiling lightly. “Ah, can I get anyone anything?”

“Not with an armful of sleeping baby you can't,” Naoki teased. “Sit, I'll get the tea.”

San's lips pursed a moment and then Lovelie chose that moment to fist a tiny hand in his shirt and any possible argument evaporated.

“You must have baby experience,” Melody said with a quiet smile.

“Aa, my sister's kids. It's been awhile, but I guess some things you don't really forget,” San said, taking a careful seat on the couch. Isshi was a little surprised at how taken by Lovelie the younger man was, though it still made him smile. This was going to be a good day.

~*~*~

San sank into the warm water of the bathtub with a soft sigh. Finally. All of their guests had gone home and Isshi had even insisted that San take the first bath while he handled some business or other in his office. San couldn't think what sort of business could need attention at this time of night on only the second day of the year, but he wasn't about to argue with his Master, either.

It was only just starting to sink in that he had an entire month of vacation ahead of him. And Isshi did not. They had one more day off together and then it would be Monday, back to work, for Isshi at any rate. San ... didn't really know _what_ he was going to do with himself.

But maybe now wasn't really the best time to be worrying about that. He could ask Isshi for ideas, but tomorrow. Or maybe not until Monday? Maybe he could coax Isshi into having a lazy day tomorrow instead. Lounging about, watching movies and eating junk food ... that would be a perfect Sunday. Maybe they wouldn't even finish all their movies. A sly smile as San relaxed even more into the warm water. He would be sure to take extra good care of his Master tomorrow.

~*~*~

Despite weeks now of living together, Isshi had to admit he still wasn't entirely used to having someone else in his life again. Or walking into his kitchen in the mornings to find coffee already brewing and breakfast nearly ready. It was ... nice, really, to have someone in his life like this again, someone who wasn't loud and demanding, but instead a quiet, steady presence. Someone who gave back as much support as Isshi gave to him. He had almost forgotten how ... _good_ it felt, to have a balanced relationship again.

“I usually drive in to work,” Isshi said as they sat down to breakfast, “but I don't have to if you think you might need the car yourself for something.”

“I think I'll be okay, for today anyway? I can always text if I need you to pick up something, yes?”

“Of course,” Isshi agreed, gently squeezing San's hand. “And there's always the train, if you need to come into the city while I have the car, but it might be better to plan that sort of thing in advance so I can leave you the keys?”

“I'm sure it won't be a problem, Issama,” San demurred. Isshi glanced sidelong at his mate, recognizing the stubborn set of the young man's face. Well, if San really wanted to use the commuter train, he wouldn't stop him. It wouldn't be the first time. It wouldn't even be the first time sober. Still, he would keep an eye out for his kitten's schedule. Perhaps a couple of days a week he would just _happen_ to leave the car at home anyway.

~*~*~

San lingered in the genkan, which was both silly and foolish since Isshi's car was already long gone and he was getting chilled. Without Isshi around, the grand house felt cold and empty. And imposing. Alone in a house far larger than anything he would have ever thought to own himself, he felt small and uncertain.

“This is ridiculous,” he muttered to himself, forcing himself out of the genkan. Tsuya was watching him, but he couldn't read her at all. Seeing as she probably disapproved of him just on general feline principle....

Cleaning up from breakfast didn't take nearly as much time as he might have hoped. Digging up a pad of paper and a pen, San started making a list of chores. There were the obvious ones he had already been doing, like cooking, laundry, and grocery shopping, but now he really needed to sort out how he was going to handle the less frequent ones, like vacuuming and washing the curtains. Realizing he wasn't even sure which rooms would need vacuuming and which would just need a good sweeping, he got up from the table to do a more thorough exploration of the house he now called home.

The first time San came to a door he couldn't open, he was still downstairs. He frowned at the door, then the room next to it. Sandwiched between the downstairs toilet and the front lounge, his guess was either yet another guest room or some sort of storage room. Yet neither of those felt quiet right, particularly for being locked. San dug up his keys, but no, Isshi had only given him the two, one for the front door and one for the gate. Which didn't stop him from trying them anyway, but of course nothing happened. A sigh and he made a mental note to ask Isshi about it later.

The second time San came to a locked door was upstairs, at the end of his room survey. Frowning, he tried again. Nope, definitely locked, not just jammed. And just like before, his keys did nothing. Unlike before, though, he could tell his door was protecting a much larger room. But why? Isshi didn't even close the door to his office 98% of the time, what could he be hiding? And why? The only thing San could think of was reminders of a past he didn't want to recall, but that didn't feel right. Isshi wasn't the sort to hesitate to throw out things and besides, the upstairs room was easily as big as the master bedroom. There had to be something else going on, he just wasn't sure what. Setting aside the mystery for now, San got back to work figuring out a schedule for himself. If he worked out the chores just right, he would still have plenty of time for both writing and gaming. He just had to remember to ask Isshi to stop by his apartment later to pick up his consoles and some of his games. He was determined to enjoy this time away from his bandmates.

~*~*~

Isshi actually smiled a little as he paused in the genkan. It felt so good to be home again, but even better to have that certain warmth welcome him that could only come from sharing his home with more than just his animals.

“Tadaima,” he called out as he unbuttoned his coat. The soft “okaeri” actually startled him, mostly because he hadn't expected San to come so quickly, though he recovered instantly.

“Sneaking up on me now, dear kitten?” he teased.

“I'm sure I have no idea what you mean by that, senpai,” San demurred, but Isshi still caught the small smile on his lover's lips. Sneaky. But then he liked that, liked that his kitten felt so relaxed with him.

“You weren't too bored without me today, were you?” he asked, only half serious, as he hung up his coat and slipped off his shoes. “Something smells delicious.”

“That would be dinner. I wasn't sure if you would want to eat right away?” San asked, head tilting to one side. Isshi could practically smell the way the younger man was suddenly second-guessing even the act of making dinner. Well, he was just going to have to put a stop to that. Taking his hands, he leaned in and pressed a kiss to San's lips.

“You really are a treasure, kitten,” he said softly, squeezing his hands. “If it's ready to eat now, we can eat now. I wouldn't want to risk ruining your hard work.”

The way San blushed at those words, Isshi couldn't stop a soft chuckle. He was completely certain he was about to make it worse, too, but it couldn't be helped.

“So ... what can I do to help?”

“Eh? Oh no, no, go sit, I have it all under control,” San insisted in a rush, practically pushing Isshi towards the dining room. He couldn't stop himself from laughing, even if it wasn't necessarily the right response.

“Really, kitten, I don't mind helping.”

“Go sit!” San insisted, trying to look stern, though Isshi could swear there was a smile in those dark eyes.

“All right, kitten, all right, don't have to be such a tyrant,” he said, feigning a melodramatic sigh as he let himself be directed to the dining room. He couldn't see it, of course, but he could easily imagine San rolling his eyes behind his back. At least he _hoped_ San felt confident enough in his place for that. Sitting at the table, Isshi quietly waited ... and watched. But the flickers of confidence were a mask, trying to hide San's deep-seated insecurities. And while that wasn't a surprise, per se, it was still a bit upsetting. It was something that was just going to need more time, though, clearly, and that Isshi could give.

“Still haven't answered my question, kitten. Was it so terrible being home alone?” Isshi asked, biting back a frown at the way San cringed away from his teasing. He had thought they were past this. Or had something actually happened?

“It ... it was fine. Oh, I forgot, I meant to ask you to stop by my place on your way home,” the younger man mumbled. “Not that it was important or anything. I suppose I could take care of it myself tomorrow. Don't worry about it.”

Well that was entirely weird. And worrying. Something must have happened to rattle San's confidence, but what? And why wouldn't he talk about it? More importantly, how was he going to get San to give him at least a few more clues to the puzzle?

“Are you sure? I really don't mind, you know.”

“No, no, it's fine, it's nothing important anyway,” San insisted. “Just something I hadn't thought through enough ahead of time to think to bring. My fault, I'll fix it.”

Well that had completely not worked. Swallowing down an urge to sigh, Isshi fell quiet as he turned his focus to the meal San had made for them. Maybe if he just gave the man a bit more time and space, he would come to it on his own? Probably not, but it was worth a try.

By the time San had presented dessert, Isshi was convinced his dear kitten was holding out on him. Taking up his hand in his, he leaned in and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“Kitten,” he murmured softly, “talk to me.”

San stammered and flushed cutely before ducking his head as if trying to hide, and something in Isshi flinched to see his pet so uncertain and even a bit scared. Something had definitely happened and he needed to get to the bottom of it, to reassure San that he had nothing to fear from him, no matter what. 

“It's nothing ... I don't ... it's ... really, I'm fine,” the younger man stammered, only sort of trying to tug his hand free.

“San-kun....”

Another flinch from the blue-haired guitarist that tore as Isshi's heart, the inner demon starting to rouse at this new evidence of just how abused San had been. He shoved down the anger and reminded himself that now was absolutely not the time for it. San dithered a bit more before the truth came out in a rush.

“Why don't I have keys for the two locked rooms?”

Isshi sat back a moment. That was it? Again he felt a flickering urge to beat Jin senseless for damaging San this badly.

“Ah, were you taking inventory of the house today?” he asked, brushing another kiss to San's bent head. “Are you upset because you feel excluded or because you think this means I don't trust you?”

He could practically feel the heat of San's embarrassment. Hit the nail right on the head, it seemed.

“There are parts of my life that I'm not sure you're ready to see, kitten, that's all,” he said softly, squeezing his hand. “I know we agreed you would take care of the house now, but a man is allowed a few secrets, yes?”

“Well yes, but....”

“You've only known me for a couple of months, pet. Can you trust that I'm not hiding anything dire and leave it at that?”

San stammered a bit more before finally nodding in acceptance. Isshi hummed soft praise before leaning in to kiss him again. He had only intended a brief, chaste brush, but something in San's posture had him pushing for more. San's submission was such a beautiful thing and Isshi's own inner demon urgently wanted, needed that. The rush of power, but also the possessiveness, the little marks left where only he would see that would further prove San belonged to him, no other.

“D-dessert,” San mumbled.

“Rather have you,” Isshi countered, smirking even as he coaxed his pet into his lap. “Think you would, too.”

The blush staining San's cheeks was almost as beautiful as the possessive marks Isshi fully intended to give him later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be honest, you're only getting this chapter today because it was already queued up for this week - I'm feeling incredibly sick and overwhelmed at the moment. I may or may not pre-release something later on [my Patreon](https://www.patreon.com/yuuana), but even if I do, I can't promise it'll make it out next week. If you like what I write and want to see more, please do consider becoming a Patron - Patrons get early access to both fanfiction and original fiction. ;) I'm currently doing a thing where I'll release original fiction short stories for every $10 in pledges, separate from any other writings, although being sick means I'm behind on my commitments.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which I lose all semblance of control on the cast and introduce unresolved threads because San doesn't know enough yet. :D
> 
> Also, I'm aware I'm super-fudging how police procedure actually works, but, um, my verse my rules?

San sighed and forced himself away from the locked door. This was ridiculous. Over a week now, but still too short a time to expect things to have changed that much. Isshi was allowed to have secrets, especially in his own home, but San couldn't help wondering what they were. In the three weeks he had been living here now, he had yet to catch Isshi disappearing into either room, which just made him all the more curious to know what was hiding behind those doors. What could be in there that Isshi didn't want him to see but had no use for himself, either?

Unless he was sneaking into the locked rooms behind San's back. He mulled that thought over a bit as he waited for his game to load. Isshi _was_ pretty sneaky, and while they did go to bed together most nights, it didn't always happen. His master could easily be sneaking into one or even both rooms while San was sleeping, what would he know of it? But why? San still only had the vaguest of guesses what might be hiding behind either door. And while he could try asking Isshi directly again, he was afraid that would only anger the man. Maybe Nao? His senpai _was_ in a position to know a lot more than he did, but did he really want to bother him with something like this? Worse, what if Nao took it as some sort of sign of neglect? No, he had already made too much trouble for Isshi in that area already, he couldn't risk that again.

The ringing of his phone really shouldn't have caused him to practically jump out of his skin the way it did. And yet he had grown so accustomed to the quiet....

“H-hello?”

_“Hey San-kun, I know you said you didn't want to see us or hear from us until next month but, um, could you come to the gate?”_

“Eh? Wait, what?”

_“Come open the gate so I can pull in? Oh gods, don't tell me I drove all the way out here and you're not even here....”_

“You ... ah, hold on, hold on,” San said in a rush, actually pausing his game this time and hurrying to the genkan. At least he could activate the car gate mechanism remotely, though he still pulled on his coat and stepped into his boots. Yup, that was Yu's car all right, but what was the drummer doing here? For that matter, how had he found him?

San waited on the stone step, watching as Yu pulled into the drive and checking the time. Well, Isshi probably wouldn't be home for a couple more hours, whatever was on Yu's mind, it wasn't likely to need all that long to deal with it and then send him on his way. He hoped.

“Hey, sorry for just dropping in on you like this,” Yu said, insisting on a hug before following San into the house. Isshi's two dogs were instantly there, barking loudly with stiff tails. San wasn't used to such protectiveness from the two small dogs, sitting down to try to calm them. Yu seemed surprised as well, stopping and offering his hand. It was enough to get them to stop barking, though Gucci still growled when Yu tried to move closer. At the hurt look on the drummer's face, San couldn't help but scoop up the small dog.

“Thank you, Gucchan, but I'm sure Yu-kun's not up to anything like that, silly bean,” he said as he ruffled the dog's ears. “I suppose I should make tea while you tell me what the hell you're doing here?”

“You haven't answered your phone in almost two weeks. I went over to your place earlier, it looked tossed, so I called the police. And then Kisaki-sama. And then the police again. Does Jin-kun know where this place is?” Yu asked, gesturing to indicate the house.

“He says he came as far as the local station once before I ditched him, but I'm not sure that's true, why?”

“Because it looked like your place was searched, hard core. Like you'd gotten involved in, like, yakuza level trouble or something. How long have you been staying here, anyway?”

“Since that day at the studio, so about a month, I guess?”

Yu nodded a little, running a hand through his hair before sitting down at the small kitchen table.

“Well, the police are investigating it as a break-in, you'll probably be hearing from them soon. Sorry. At least I retracted the part about you being missing and possibly kidnaped?”

“Oh gods, Yu-kun....”

“I didn't know!” Yu protested in his own defense. “I mean, there was stuff tossed everywhere, stuff missing, stuff smashed, and I had no idea where you were or why you had stopped answering your phone. You'll need to go through and report what's actually missing. It looked pretty serious, but then again maybe some of that is stuff you brought here? I mean, if you'd been planning to stay here awhile, yeah? So like your guitars and computer and stuff....”

“What? No, I didn't ... I didn't think ... I mean, we were taking a break, I wasn't really ... I have my laptop and the one guitar, but ... fucking hell...”

“Okay, forget the tea. Come on, I'll drive and you can call Kisaki-sama, let him know I found you okay.”

San nodded, turning off the stove. So much for his nice, peaceful vacation. He just hoped things weren't actually as dire as Yu was making them sound. But he wasn't going to hold his breath.

~*~*~

“Icchama, you have a visitor,” Akiya announced even as he walked out the door. Glancing up, Isshi was surprised to see San hovering just inside the door, nervousness practically pouring off of him.

“San-kun?”

A beat of hesitation and then San was rushing into his arms, clutching Isshi's shirt with a choked whimper. Worry spiked in him as he held San close, gaze sliding sidelong to Shin. The small frown and nod said plenty, though it wasn't particularly good. Nodding himself, he then drew San over to their studio's couch while the others silently slipped away for the night.

“What happened? Jin-san didn't try to come to the house, did he?”

“N-no, but Yu-kun's pretty sure he's the one that broke into my apartment and –.”

“Where ... oh good, you've got him.”

“Kisaki-sama? W-what ... what are you ... I told you.....”

“Yes, yes, and I'm amused that you thought that would be enough to keep me from coming up here,” Kisaki replied with a small smile, crossing the room to brush a hand against San's shoulder. “Now, have you been to your apartment yet?”

“Yeah, Yu-kun and I just finished there,” San said, wiping his cheek with his fingers. “I filed a damages report with the police and my insurance. The police said it was still an active crime scene when we left, not that I could have stayed there anymore anyway.”

“No and I wouldn't have let you,” Kisaki said with another frown. “Though since you're staying with Ikkun right now.... So how much damage did that jackass do?”

“We don't ... we don't actually know if Jin-kun was involved, the police are still investigating,” San stammered.

“You're ducking my question, dear,” Kisaki said, frowning. “How much damage?”

San fidgeted in place for a long time before finally speaking: “A lot. Two guitars damaged, one smashed beyond repair. Several damaged pedals, one smashed monitor, two more missing. Most of my equipment is just gone, though the police recovered a couple pieces from the dumpster behind my building. Right now, they told me they think someone with a key went in and then didn't lock it up properly and someone else did the trashing and theft.”

From the way Kisaki snorted, Isshi could tell his friend wasn't convinced. Neither was he, for that matter, but proof could be a problem. Nor was he entirely sure what they could do about it, other than letting the police do their jobs and hoping for the best.

“All right, well then ... Ikkun, if you've got him, I suppose I should go talk to San-kun's rental agent, ne? And where's Yu-kun gotten himself now?”

“Right here, trying to be small and out of the way,” the drummer in question said from the doorway.

“All right, well, let's leave these two alone then and see what progress we can make ourselves? Ikkun, I'll be by later.”

Isshi nodded, quietly thanking Yu-kun for his help. And then his attention was turned completely back to San, tucking an arm back around him.

“So ... what's the state of things?”

“I ... I should probably call the station, see if they've finished processing the apartment yet,” San mumbled, sinking into Isshi's chest not unlike a puppet with cut strings. “If they are ... I need to salvage what I can and then ... I don't know.”

“All right, kitten. Call them and find out, then dinner, _then_ we'll go back to your apartment and see what we can do,” Isshi said, though he was already plotting options. San nodded, sighing heavily again before getting up to make his call. Keeping one eye on his kitten, Isshi fired off a quick message to Izumi. They might not be able to completely clean out the apartment tonight, but then again.....

~*~*~

Everyone else had long since gone home (or in Kisaki's case, been sent to Isshi's home) by the time Shin was satisfied. The apartment was completely clean and as empty as when San had first moved into it. Shin had the last batch of San's boxes loaded into a van downstairs, all that was left was to turn in the keys in the morning. And still he waited. There was one other thing, too.

He heard them stumbling up the stairs, drunk, and so he locked up and stood at the door. The two men looked more than a little surprised to see someone barring their way. Sadder still, he couldn't say he was surprised by that.

“Returning to the scene of your crimes?” Shin asked, folding his arms over his chest.

“... 'the hell're you?” the one on the right, Ray, slurred.

“An involved senpai. San-kun doesn't live here anymore.”

“Look,” the one of the left, Jin, said, “I already told the cops I had nothing to do with whatever happened here, okay?”

“Yes, I know,” Shin replied. “I'd stick to that story if I were you, since San-kun, for whatever reason, seems inclined to actually believe it. Nevertheless, there is nothing for you here.”

Dropping his arms to his sides, he gave them both a scowl, but as drunk as they were, only Ray seemed to even notice, starting to retreat. Jin, on the other hand, growled and took an aggressive step forward. It was excuse enough. Without a single wasted motion, Shin laid them both out. And then he pressed a finger to Jin's forehead, another to Ray's.

“You will not touch San again. If you do, I will know. You will not enjoy what comes of that. He does not live here any longer. You will not hunt him.”

There was a resistance and then the two passed out cold. Of course they did. A heavy sigh and Shin got to work. After all, as much as he might _want_ to, he couldn't just leave them in the hall.

~*~*~

“It's not over, you know.”

Isshi glanced sidelong at Shin and sighed.

“Aa, I know,” he said, refilling Shin's cup as well as his own. At least they had the break room to themselves. For the moment, anyway.

“He insists he had nothing to do with it. He's lying through his teeth, but...,” Shin said, trailing off with a helpless shrug.

“Let Tadashi-kun worry about it,” he suggested, though he knew from personal experience that could be easier said than done. “San-kun is safe in my care, you know that.”

“Of course he is,” Shin replied with his quiet, knowing smile. Dammit.

“Gossiping over coffee again?” Izumi asked, grinning at them both as he walked into the room.

“Oh of course,” Isshi replied, picking out Izumi's mug and filling it for him. “Have anything to add for us?”

“Maybe?” the drummer replied, pulling out a chair and nodding his thanks. “Masato-kun made a mumbled request for help, if you don't mind, Shinpei.”

“Pretty sure I'm not the one he wants to work with,” Shin replied with a smirk. Isshi bit back a laugh while Izumi just scowled at them both.

“Yeah, well, it's you or Icchama and considering what happened the last time....”

“I'm just saying...,” Shin said as he got up from the table. For his part, Isshi did his best to look innocent, lest Izumi decide to lecture him again. If Shin was going to be wrapped up in working with their kouhai for the next few hours, maybe he could....

“Naoran has some music he wants to run by you and Akki. And I need you to talk to him again. Akki, I mean. Something's up his ass again, but he won't talk to _me_ about it, so....”

“I think I already know,” Isshi said with a low sigh, “but I'll talk to him again to be sure. _After_ we see what Naoran has for us, I promise.”

From the way Izumi grunted, the drummer had his own thoughts on the matter. Isshi would talk to Akiya again, though he wasn't sure it was going to matter. They were approaching a major crossroads, things were poised for changes and even he couldn't say for sure which way things would go. Or even which way would be the better option.

“Oh thank fuck. Sorry, Mom, I really, really, _really_ need Dad right now. Really. Um, please?”

Public persona aside, it was rare to see Miyavi this worked up and upset, especially since his marriage. Melody - and Lovelie, for that matter - had really mellowed him out.

“Ai-chan?” Isshi asked, but Miyavi shook his head, a worried frown creasing his forehead. Suspicious, as was the way the younger man's gaze darted sidelong at Izumi.

“Oh just spit it out, Mikkun,” Izumi said with a huff.

“Yes, Mom. Sorry, Mom,” the young guitarist said with an embarrassed flush. “It's just ... I keep finding these around the apartment and it's starting to kinda freak me out. A lot,” he explained, pulling out a handful of crumpled, scorched fuda. Pulling out a pen, Isshi snagged one and drew it across the table without actually touching it. Izumi did the same with another one, a heavy sigh following shortly thereafter.

“You came charging in here because of this?” Izumi asked.

“Well, yes,” Miyavi huffed, arms crossing over his chest defensively. “But they keep appearing out of nowhere, crumpled and burnt, and it's creepy as fuck, dammit!”

“They're spent. Take them down to a shrine for disposal,” Izumi said. Miyavi's eyes went wide a moment, uncertainty clouding them again a beat later as he hugged himself.

“But....”

“I _have_ learned a thing or three over the years, thank you,” Izumi replied pragmatically.

“... Dad?”

“No, he's right, they're spent shells. Take them to a shrine of Inari and let a priest handle it, but they aren't actually dangerous,” Isshi said, offering his step-son a smile. “Relax. I'll ask Shinji-kun to drop by your place later, but you're fine, you have my word.

“... okay, but I'd kinda like 'em to stop.”

“Talk to Shinji-kun tonight then,” he replied with a shrug. “Until then, stop worrying, yeah? They're perfectly harmless.”

Getting up, Isshi washed out his cup quickly before turning and giving Miyavi's arm a reassuring squeeze.

“I promise, you and your family are quite safe, Mikkun, but maybe you can all come have dinner with us ... this weekend? But right now, I should get back to work. And so should you, ne?”

“I ... yeah, okay. Yeah. I ... sorry for panicking like an idiot,” the younger man mumbled, ducking his head.

“You're a new dad, it's expected,” Isshi replied with a chuckle, sharing a look of fond exasperation with Izumi. At least this time it hadn't been anything truly serious. This time.

~*~*~

San glanced at the boxes all around him, a chill slithering down his spine. His whole life, almost, was in this room, everything he had been able to salvage from the apartment. Someone else had handled the early termination of his lease and Kisaki himself had taken him to look at new apartments. Nothing had really caught his eye, which was probably just as well since most had been outside his budget anyway. Kisaki had promised to keep looking before dropping him off at Isshi's house again. He didn't quite know how to tell the man he would rather do it himself. Not that he had any money saved up for this. The insurance claim was going to take weeks, maybe months, and even then he wasn't sure it was going to be enough to repair and/or replace everything that had been damaged or stolen.

On the other hand, maybe it didn't matter. Okay, maybe it was a bit early in their relationship to be committing to living together long term, but Isshi had already promised he was welcome to stay as long as he wanted. It scared him a little, the thought of being so dependent on the other man, but at the same time some part of him longed for it. And in a way that almost scared him more. He _wasn't_ a lifestyle submissive, he had never before been a slave or even a true pet, but a part of him was seriously flirting with the idea of just giving Isshi _everything_ for awhile. He was just so _tired_....

“Knock, knock, anybody home?”

San recoiled from that voice a moment before hurrying to the genkan. Gucci and Pinky were both barking and bouncing around the woman standing there while practically ignoring the second one crouched down to try to pet them.

“Um....”

“Hi, sorry to just let ourselves in,” the woman on the right said with a bright smile, lightly nudging her crouching companion with her knee. “It's San of Nega, right? I'm Mally and this is Jyou.”

“I, um, sorry, yes, pleasure to meet you,” he said with a polite bow, still not sure what was going on. He recognized the two women, of course, but what were they doing here?

“... Issama didn't tell you we were coming, did he?” Jyou said as she stood up straight, dusting her hands off on her jeans with a small smile.

“I ... honestly, I'm not expecting him home for another couple of hours, at the least,” he confessed, glancing between the two of them. “Though ... if you want to wait....”

“I think a cup of tea sounds lovely,” Mally said with a bright grin. San _really_ wanted to ask the women why they were even there, but instead he just nodded, quietly inviting them into Isshi's lounge before padding into the kitchen to make tea. And message Isshi. He wasn't expecting his phone to start ringing with an incoming call a moment later, though.

“Issama?”

_“I take it Jyou-kun is at the house then?”_

“Yes. You know them?”

_“Yes, though I wasn't expecting them to just... Maa, no matter, tell her bottom left, she'll understand. I'll be home in a couple hours, kitten.”_

“A-all right,” San stammered. He didn't understand the message, but then again.... Stifling a sigh, he finished setting up their tea and took it into the front lounge.

“Sorry for the wait,” he said as he sat down the tray. “Jyou-san, Issama said to tell you bottom left.”

She seemed startled a moment, then nodded and turned to her companion.

“Mal?”

“Yeah, we'll be fine. San-kun can tell me all about what it's really like to work for the infamous Kisaki-sama or something, yeah?”

“Um....”

But Jyou was already walking out of the room and when he tried to get up to follow, Mally grabbed his arm in a surprisingly firm grip.

“Really, it's fine, everything's fine,” she said in a tone that suggested arguing was a bad idea. “This is why Issama asked her to come out here.”

“But....”

“Is it serious?” she asked.

“Excuse me?”

“You're in his house, in the middle of the afternoon, and expect him back later. I assume that means the two of you are involved in something.”

San squirmed and pulled his arm free. He didn't know this woman at all, beyond having seen her around the scene. He certainly wasn't going to talk about his relationship status so casually with her. He wasn't that stupid.

“Yeah, it's fine, you don't have to say,” she said with a wry smirk. “I mean, I already know Dad's gayer than a pride parade, but privacy and all, I get it.”

Stunned, San couldn't think of a single thing to say in response to that.

“You're so cute,” Mally said with a laugh and for a second he was certain she was going to do something completely inappropriate, like ruffle his hair. “You do at least know he's already legally adopted two adults as his kids, right?”

“Kuina-kun is the one who introduced us,” he said, feeling his spine stiffen even as he tried not to think about what she was trying to imply. For one thing, he already knew the whole story behind Kuina's adoption. For another ... he wasn't even sure if his feelings for Isshi were headed in that direction or if he was just building the man up to impossible standards in his mind, a reaction to being shown so much kindness for the first time in far too long. Either way, it wasn't something he wanted to discuss with someone he barely knew.

“Well, even so ... there's a lot about Dad you don't know yet. Don't let him push you away so easily, yeah?”

That ... San flinched and pulled back again. That wasn't something he had heard anyone but Kuina say. And somehow it was upsetting to hear.

“I ... I don't think....”

“Right, right, not my business, sorry,” she said, though he didn't think she was actually sorry at all. “We'll talk about music now, yeah? Is Kisaki-sama really as egotistical an ass as he seems?”

“Not ... not the way a lot of outsiders seem to think. It's, you know, a front, a stage persona. Just, well, it goes beyond just the stage. But for those of us signed with him, he's more ... down to earth? He cares a lot more than I think most people realize,” he said, not sure how comfortable he felt talking about _this_ , either. It wasn't like it was a secret or anything, but....

“... right, how about you pick a topic,” Mally suggested. “Or I could just shut up, drink my tea, and let you get back to whatever you were doing before we interrupted.”

“Oh no, it's ... I wouldn't be that rude,” he demurred, shaking his head.

“Nah. I mean, Jyou-kun'll be back soon anyway, and obviously you weren't expecting us, so it's fine, yeah?”

“Really, it's....”

“Mal? I'm set.”

“Well, there you go, case closed,” the woman said as she stood up again. “Thank you again for the tea.”

“B-but,” San stammered, getting up as well.

“Until next time,” Mally said, grinning and giving him a cocky wave as she headed for the genkan. He started to follow her when Jyou stepped between them, catching him by the shoulders.

“It's fine, really,” she said, stretching up to brush a kiss to his cheek. “Sorry for intruding. Thank sensei for me, ne?”

A beat and the two women were gone, the kiss from Jyou still tingling on his cheek.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The good news for fans of this work is, even with Camp NaNo April in full effect, I should be able to still update this work next month on schedule. Probably. If you'd like to know more, check me out on [Patreon](https://www.patreon.com/yuuana), give me a follow, maybe even sign on as a Patron?


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A relatively short, mostly quiet chapter this month, it's just how things worked out. Can't have Big Things happening _every_ chapter, after all. ;)

San scowled at his phone a second before wiping his hands so he could actually answer the cursed thing without getting soap suds all over it. 

“What now, Yu-kun?” he demanded with a little noise of frustration.

_“... bad morning?”_ his drummer asked with an audible frown. _“Sorry, I just thought we could, you know, go around looking at apartments together? Or is that not something you want to do anymore?”_

“I ... I know I should,” San confessed with a heavy sigh, “but I can't actually afford it, not until the insurance claim goes through and maybe not even then. There's so much I have to replace....”

_“It's up to you, San-kun. If you don't want to, if you're just going to live with Isshi-senpai now....”_

Another heavy sigh. They had talked it over again last night and Isshi had repeated his reassurance that San was welcome to stay with him for as long as he needed or wanted. Staying was certainly the _easier_ option, though he wasn't sure if it was the _right_ one.

_“... look, I'm not doing anything else, how about I come over and we can figure out a budget and look at some online listings or something?”_

“... you're already driving out here, aren't you?” San asked, rolling his eyes at the non-answer that got him. “Fine, you can help me figure out what all I absolutely _have_ to replace and we'll ... go from there.”

_“I'll even bring lunch!”_ Yu said before hanging up. San wanted to be annoyed with the man, he did, but he knew Yu was just trying to help. And that the drummer was feeling guilty for ... actually, he wasn't entirely sure what all Yu thought he had done wrong or not done or whatever. Maybe he could have asked, but he wasn't sure he actually _wanted_ to open that particular can of worms, especially when he suspected Jin was at the center of Yu's guilty conscience. Some things were just better left unsaid.

But if Yu was already on his way over ... huffing, San redoubled his efforts with the dishes. Yu might be bringing lunch with him, but that was no reason not to finish making the kitchen spotless. Just meant he had to hurry things along a bit more than he had originally planned.

~*~*~

Yu couldn't help wondering if he was really making the right decision. San hadn't exactly sounded happy to be hearing from him again. It was too late to back out now, of course, but still he worried. San was a good leader when it came to band things, but in anything, _everything_ else, he was too likely to be a pushover. That's how things had gotten so badly wrong with Jin and Ray, right? Or maybe it was the other way around, the years of Jin's abuse making San act this way?

A sick thought suddenly chilled Yu to the core. Was he following in their footsteps, taking advantage of what their years of abuse had done? He hated even the _suggestion_ that the answer might be yes, hated himself for thinking about it. San was his friend and okay, he was worried about him, but surely after everything they'd been through, especially lately, that wasn't so unreasonable?

Finally pulling into Isshi's drive, Yu parked and turned off his car, then closed his eyes and thunked his forehead against the steering wheel. He wasn't like Jin and Ray, he _wasn't_. If San gave any sign that Yu was pushing him too hard, he would back off, he would. If San said he wasn't ready for this (or anything else), then he would respect that. He had to.

Something tapped at the window just before a familiar voice spoke: “Everything okay in there?”

Yu jerked back, feeling a bit ridiculous at his own surprise. Of course San would come right out, he'd texted the man to tell him he was here. Hell, San had been the one to open the gate for him in the first place. What was wrong with him?

“Fine, fine,” he said, unbuckling his seat belt before grabbing their lunch from the passenger seat. He couldn't help shivering at the cold, grateful to be all but rushed into Isshi's house. He really had no idea how their senpai could possibly afford such a house, but seeing as it wasn't his place to be asking such a question....

“You know, I was fine,” San said as they sat down to lunch. “I'm still fine. Just because that ... that jackass....”

“I thought you didn't believe Jin-kun was involved,” Yu said softly, frowning.

“I didn't want to at first, but ... I mean, at best he left my place unlocked so someone else could get in and that's....”

“On the other hand, a straight up thief would just steal everything rather than wasting time trashing your place, risking getting caught?” Yu ventured. 

“... Issama says it looked to him like someone was looking for something and when they couldn't find it, flew into a destructive rage, then tried to make it look like a burglary to cover their tracks.”

“Yeah, that ... sounds like something Jin-kun could do....”

Yu watched San's heavy sigh and reached out to squeeze his hand, hoping to offer his friend some comfort. San looked so ... tired.

“What does Kisaki-sama say?” he asked in a low whisper after a moment.

“I haven't talked to him since that night. I ... I don't know. I mean, it's not ... Jin-kun swears it wasn't him, no one has proof. We're still on contract, I can't ... I can't deal with breaking that right now.”

“No, no, of course not, I just thought ... no, never mind, he's probably waiting on the police report, just like the rest of us, yeah?”

“Yeah,” San said with another heavy sigh. When they were done for the day, Yu would call Kisaki himself. San had enough on his plate, but it felt almost too cruel to force him to keep working with someone like Jin if that ass really was responsible for this latest attack. And even if it wasn't him, the fact that all of them could so easily believe it _could_ be ... Yu wasn't sure what that said about the state of the band, but he couldn't help thinking it wasn't anything good.

~*~*~

There was something particularly comforting about being able to share a bath with San, to disconnect from the rest of the world and just relax with him for awhile. Isshi could tell his kitten felt much the same, the tension starting to melt out of him the moment he settled against Isshi's chest. A perfect fit.

“Ah, I should have asked sooner, but how was your day, kitten?”

“Fine,” San mumbled. It wasn't much of an answer and Isshi pinched him lightly, smiling at the way he squirmed.

“Mou, it was fine!” he insisted. “Yu-kun came over, we went through things. I don't have the resources to move right now, but it's fine. I mean, after what happened, I wouldn't have been able to stay in that place, obviously, but. I don't know, I just ... might have to stay here longer than we were first planning.”

“You can stay as long as you like, we've been over this, kitten,” Isshi murmured, brushing a kiss to blue hair.

“Aa, I know,” the younger man said with a soft sigh. “I guess I was just hoping.... Not that I want to leave! I just....”

“No, I get it,” Isshi said, giving him a reassuring squeeze. “You want a place of your own, I understand. You know, if you have an equipment list ... you said you need to replace pedals and peripherals and such, right?”

“Mm, but that's going to have to wait for the insurance money.”

“Of course, but if you have a list, Shin-kun might be able to help. He knows electronics better than anyone and he has a gift for getting good deals. For that matter, he might have some duplicates he could sell you.”

“Oh I ... I wouldn't want to make any more trouble,” San mumbled and even without seeing it, Isshi could feel the blush on his kitten's cheeks.

“Family, kitten,” Isshi said softly, brushing another kiss to his cheek. “Family means no one gets left behind. It's not a problem, I promise.”

San fell silent and Isshi squashed the impulse to sigh. San's independence was important to him and Isshi would not infringe on that. At the same time, he wouldn't let that stop him from keeping an eye out for ways he could help. If San just happened to leave a list out where Isshi could find it, well, who would blame him for taking advantage of that?

“Thank you,” San said suddenly, shifting to brush a kiss to Isshi's cheek.

“For?” he asked, though he already had an idea.

“For letting me do things at my own pace. For knowing when to push and when to wait. For ... for everything, really.”

For a moment, he wanted to tell San that he didn't need to be thanking him for what was, in essence, just Isshi's nature. And then he thought better of it.

“You're welcome, kitten,” he said instead, tilting his chin up for another kiss. They would get through this, together.

~*~*~

San was still wrapped in his favorite fluffy bathrobe, waiting for the coffee to finish brewing, when Isshi's dogs ran for the genkan, barking their silly little heads off about ... something. He probably ought to have been getting up to see, but he was having a hard time just keeping his eyes open at the moment. Maybe spending half the night making love with Isshi had been a mistake? Though he absolutely did not regret a second of it, so....

“Yes, yes,” a familiar voice mumbled from the hall. “Spoiled, the both of you. Hi-kun? San-kun? Don't tell me you're both still in bed at this hour, I won't believe it.”

Kisaki. But why was the man still in Tokyo? Guilt clawed at him - what important business was Kisaki neglecting because of him?

“Eh? Why are you...?”

“Really, Tadashi-kun, how many times must I remind you that mere mortals need sleep?” Isshi mock scolded, gently pushing San back down into his chair.

“I could say the same to you,” Kisaki countered before walking over and giving San a gentle hug. “Poor San-kun, have you gotten any sleep at all?”

“I'll be fine, just need some coffee,” he mumbled.

“Can I trust you to make it to the dining room with hot coffee?” Isshi teased, brushing a kiss to San's cheek. In spite of himself, he could feel his cheeks heating as he mumbled his response. Isshi chuckled softly and passed him a mug of coffee, made just the way he liked it.

“Go on, I can manage to make breakfast for a change,” Isshi said gently. San wanted to pout and protest, but having Kisaki there.... Faking a grumble, he sipped his coffee before getting up and going into the usual dining room. A sigh and he sank down beside the small table they kept there.

“When's the last time you got a good night's sleep?” Kisaki asked, sitting beside him with a coffee of his own.

“I'd say last night, but you'd just say I was lying,” San said, stifling a yawn and sipping his coffee again. “Issama takes very good care of me, Kisaki-sama, really. I'm just ... having a slow start to the day.”

“Hnn, a likely excuse,” his boss muttered, but he didn't argue it any further than that. And for that, San was grateful. The genuine concern was certainly preferable to some of the alternatives, but Kisaki was his boss, not his father.

They were just finishing up breakfast when Kisaki turned and gave San a very obvious assessing look.

“I suppose there's no use in suggesting you go back to bed. Well, that's fine, you can come with me then, as planned.”

“As planned? What plan?” he stammered.

“The plan that includes you getting a new apartment, of course,” his boss replied, as if that should have been obvious.

“Kisaki-sama, that ... I mean I appreciate your help, I do, but Issama and I were talking about maybe me just staying here now....”

“Oh, is that so? I'd think you'd want something more convenient for work. Well, it's up to you, of course....”

Despite what he said, the look from his boss rather implied that he thought he was being ... impulsive? Childish? Something. But even as his nerves were winding up with upset, he could feel Isshi's hand on his and that helped push back the unease.

“Tadashi-kun, what have I told you?” Isshi scolded, but there was amusement undercutting his words. “San-kun is completely safe in my care.”

“But it won't hurt to _look_ at apartments, yes?”

“I ... I don't ... I mean the insurance money doesn't come in for awhile and even then, I don't really....”

“Oh don't tell me you're going to let something as small as key money make your choices for you, San-kun,” Kisaki scoffed. “I have just the right place for you, I have an appointment for a walk-through this afternoon, and you're coming with me.”

“But –!”

“No buts! It's not like you have work, dear, so try some other excuse. Better idea, go get dressed so we aren't pressed for time, yes? Hitoshi-kun, make him be reasonable....”

“He has a point, kitten,” Isshi said softly, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “And it's even a half good one. Doesn't hurt anything to look, right?”

As much as he hated to admit it, San didn't have any sort of ready counter for that. Still, he was only going to look at this place Kisaki had found. It wasn't like he had enough to hold an apartment until he got paid again, even if it was perfect, so it was kind of a waste, but since Kisaki had already made the appointment, what else could he do? Maybe they would get lucky and it would be terrible. Surely by now the universe owed him that much.

~*~*~

Isshi could practically taste his kitten's upset even before he tried the door, unsurprised that it was unlocked.

“San-kun?” he called out, slipping out of coat and boots. When the younger man didn't appear, his worry increased. Not that San was at all hard to find, but seeing him standing there in the empty lounge, eyes closed as he hugged himself tightly.... Isshi walked over to his kitten, pressing a kiss to his temple as he slid an arm around him.

“It's all right, kitten, I'm here now,” he murmured. Permission enough, it seemed, as San crumpled against him. Isshi let San have his time, stroking fingers through his hair until he felt the upset finally starting to fade again.

“What's wrong, kitten?”

“This place,” San mumbled, choking a little on his own words. “It's perfect.”

“... and that's bad?” he asked, just a bit confused on this. Oh he knew San felt that he couldn't afford a new place, but this level of upset felt much worse than just that.

“Kisaki-sama bought it!” San wailed as if he were speaking of the end of the world. Isshi was a bit startled at such a blatant show of wealth by his friend, though the more he thought about it, the less surprising it felt. Kisaki would do anything for those he found worthy and Isshi knew just how much his friend thought of San.

“San-kun....”

“I can't ... I can't....”

“Shh, San-kun, stop,” Isshi murmured, pressing a finger to his lips. “Breathe, kitten, it's all right. Take a deep breath and start at the top, can you do that for me, pet?”

San shuddered and nodded, closing his eyes again as he took a deep breath, then another. Isshi relaxed his hold, letting go entirely when San moved to sit down on a sturdy packing crate. A moment and Isshi drew another one over to sit down beside him.

“Kisaki-sama had a couple appointments to look at places. They were nice enough, but I could always find enough flaws to talk him out of doing anything. But this one ... it's perfect. The right location, the right size, a real kitchen. Only ... they were looking to sell, not rent, and I can't ... I can't do that. I ... I was trying to figure out how to apologize for wasting the agent's time when Kisaki-sama started asking how much utilities were and how quickly things could get switched into his name and somehow he had the agent convinced he was my uncle and ... and I'm not even sure what happened next, just ... he gave me the keys and told me to call you.”

Isshi couldn't help a small smile at that. Kisaki did have a gift for getting people to do what he wanted, though he also understood, somewhat, why San was upset.

“Well, kitten, I dare say it's a bit late to talk him out of anything now,” he said, brushing a kiss to his lover's cheek. “Why don't you let me take you out for dinner and then this weekend we can see about getting you settled in here, all right?”

“Wh-what? N-no ... no, I can't ... I can't just....”

“Would you feel better about it if I talked him into letting you rent this place from him instead of just taking it?”

“What?! N-no! No, I can't insult him by trying to pay for this!”

“So ... you don't want to accept him buying you a condo, but you also can't pay him to live here, but he isn't going to take you _not_ moving in and is probably even already trying to collect your things from my house.... I'm not seeing a lot of options here, kitten.”

“Oh gods,” San groaned, leaning into Isshi's side.

“What's in these boxes, anyway?”

“I ... I have no idea. I think Kisaki-sama snuck them in when I was trying not to have a breakdown on the phone, but I ... I've been afraid to look inside.”

“All right, well, dinner first and then we'll deal with this, all right? Food always makes things better.”

If San's laugh was a bit on the weak side, well, it wasn't the first time. Kissing his cheek again, Isshi stood and drew San up with him. Dinner out together would help. And it would give Kisaki time to finish what Isshi suspected the man was already doing. At worst, Isshi would sweet talk the label into letting him borrow a van for the weekend. It wouldn't be the first time.

~*~*~

_“What if I told you I never really loved you?”_

_Isshi turned away from the open shouji to frown at the man behind him. A spring breeze tugged at his haori, but he ignored it._

_“How could I have? You're a monster, a beast. All those lies you said to us. How could anyone ever love you?”_

_“... when did I ever lie to you, Sacchi?” he countered, frowning. This was wrong, all wrong...._

_“Oh only every day from the moment we met you,” the blond bassist replied with a disdainful snort. “Lying to everyone, pretending you're just like the rest of us. But it was all just lies. Of course I had to protect Amonn from you, take him away from here. Monster.”_

_In a blink, Sato held a black sword, the tip almost brushing against Isshi's Adam's apple. He could see the fire in Sato's eyes and he stepped back. This was wrong, all of it._

_“Monster. Demon. Traitor. All that time, did you ever even love Amonn at all? Are you even capable of it? Or was that just another lie? You certainly replaced him quickly enough!”_

_“Sacchi, what are you –.”_

_“Bet you're lying to this one, too. Does he have any idea what you truly are? Maybe I should find him, tell him the truth. Before you destroy him, too. Just like you destroy everything you touch, demon.”_

~*~*~

Isshi jerked awake, his heart pounding in his ears. He forced himself to take a deep breath, sinking back down into the bedding. Just a dream, nothing more. A product of his own fears and doubts, but not actually real. He had kept the truth from Sato the whole time he had known the man, that sword ... there was no way Sato could have ever even laid eyes on it, let alone touched it. And even if he had....

No, it was nothing. A false construction of his own wounded soul. Certainly there had been nothing quick about his letting himself fall in love again. Just another dream.

Slipping from the bed to keep from disturbing San, Isshi made his way downstairs and started himself some water for tea. That was what he really needed, a cup of sencha and some moonlight. A little luck and San would never even notice he was gone. His kitten already worried too much, Isshi would do anything he could to keep him from worrying about this, too.

~*~*~

San watched as he presented Isshi with his usual breakfast and coffee, but other than thanking him, the man said nothing, gave away nothing. He knew his master was still having nightmares, though not every night, not even most nights. Still, they came often enough that San felt justified in his worry. Especially since Isshi wasn't talking about them. Not that he was in a strong position to judge when it came to keeping secrets, of course. Or even just not wanting to talk about the past. But at the same time....

“Same dream as last time?” he asked softly, taking a seat with his own breakfast.

“Eh?”

“... it's not like you have to tell me about it or anything,” he murmured, ducking his head a little in hopes of hiding his own sadness. “I just ... didn't want you to think I hadn't noticed, didn't care.”

San could feel himself tensing in spite of everything, worried this would be the time Isshi's temper finally snapped at him for asking such a question. However much he might be a bit in love with his senpai, he couldn't really believe that Isshi could ever feel anything the same. Attached, maybe, even a bit fond, perhaps, but not love, not really. And yet the hand that cupped his cheek felt so _right_....

“Ah, I'm sorry, kitten, I didn't mean to disrupt your sleep,” his senpai said in a low murmur. Not the answer he was hoping to get.

“It's fine,” he said, smiling encouragement. “If you want to talk about it....”

“Not really anything to say,” Isshi countered, pressing a kiss to his forehead before turning back to his breakfast. “Old hurts take time to go away, ne? Even more so when there's room for doubt.”

“... I'm sure it wasn't your fault, Issama,” he demurred.

“That's sweet of you to say,” his senpai said, but San could tell Isshi didn't agree with the sentiment. Stifling a sigh, San picked up his bowl of rice. He couldn't  _make_ his senpai talk to him about whatever was haunting him, no matter how much he might wish otherwise. He was just going to have to find other ways of helping him put whatever it was behind him.


End file.
